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CALUMET 


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MERWIN-'WDBSTER 


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CALUMET    "K 


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"  WE  woRK^ikG^1Ii^  gkI'along  all  right  on  this  '' 


CALUMET    "K 


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MERWIN-WEBSTER 

AUTHORS  O*  "  THE  SHORT  LINlt  WAR,"  ETC. 


WITH  MANY  ILLUSTRATIONS  BY 
HARRY  C.  EDWARDS 


NEW   YORK 

GROSSET    &    DUNLAP 

PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1901, 
By  the  CURTIS  PUBLISHING  COMPANY. 

COPYMGHT,   1901, 

By  the  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Set  up,  electrotyped,  and  published  October,  1901.     Reprinted 
August,  1902;  March,  1903  ;  April,  July,  1908. 

Special  edition  May,  June,  1904  ,  March,  June,  1905;  June,  1906; 
April,  1909 ;  May,  1912. 


X.  8.  Ciuhlng  it  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


CALUMET    «K 


91S974 


CALUMET  '^K'' 


CHAPTER  I 

The  contract  for  the  two  million  bushel 
grain  elevator,  Calumet  K,  had  been  let  to 
MacBride  &  Company,  of  Minneapolis,  in 
January,  but  the  superstructure  was  not  begun 
until  late  in  May,  and  at  the  end  of  October  it 
was  still  far  from  completion.  Ill  luck  had 
attended  Peterson,  the  constructor,  especially 
since  August.  MacBride,  the  head  of  the  firm, 
disliked  unlucky  men,  and  at  the  end  of  three 
months  his  patience  gave  out,  and  he  tele- 
graphed Charlie  Bannon  to  leave  the  job  he 
was  completing  at  Duluth  ^nd  report  at  once 
at  the  home  office. 

Rumors  of  the  way  things  were  going  at 
Calumet  under  the  hands  of  his  younger  co- 
laborer  had  reached  Bannon,  and  he  was  not 
greatly  surprised  when  MacBride  told  him  to 
go  to  Chicago  Sunday  night  and  supersede 
Peterson. 


2  Calumet  ''K^' 

At  ten  o'clock  Monday  morning,  Bannon, 
looking  out  through  the  dusty  window  of  the 
trolley  car,  caught  sight  of  the  elevator,  the 
naked  cribbing  of  its  huge  bins  looming  high 
above  the  huddled  shanties  and  lumber  piles 
about  it.  A  few  minutes  later  he  was  walking 
along  a  rickety  plank  sidewalk  which  seemed  to 
lead  in  a  general  direction  toward  the  elevator. 
The  sidewalks  at  Calumet  are  at  the  theoretical 
grade  of  the  district,  that  is,  about  five  feet 
above  the  actual  level  of  the  ground.  In  winter 
and  spring  they  are  necessary  causeways  above 
seas  of  mud,  but  in  dry  weather  every  one 
abandons  them,  to  walk  straight  to  his  destina- 
tion over  the  uninterrupted  flats.  Bannon  set 
down  his  hand  bag  to  button  his  ulster,  for  the 
wind  was  driving  clouds  of  smoke  and  stinging 
dust  and  an  occasional  grimy  snowflake  out  of 
the  northwest.  Then  he  sprang  down  from  the 
sidewalk  and  made  his  way  through  the  inter- 
vening bogs  and,  heedless  of  the  shouts  of  the 
brakemen,  over  a  freight  train  which  was 
creaking  its  endless  length  across  his  path,  to 
the  elevator  site. 

The  elevator  lay  back  from  the  river  about 
sixty  yards  and  parallel  to  it.     Between  was 


Calumet  '' K"  3 

the  main  line  of  the  C.  &  S.  C,  four  clear  tracks 
unbroken  by  switch  or  siding.  On  the  wharf, 
along  with  a  big  pile  of  timber,  was  the  begin- 
ning of  a  small  spouting  house,  to  be  connected 
with  the  main  elevator  by  a  belt  gallery  above 
the  C.  &  S.  C.  tracks.  A  hundred  yards  to  the 
westward,  up  the  river,  the  Belt  Line  tracks 
crossed  the  river  and  the  C.  &  S.  C.  right  of 
way  at  an  oblique  angle,  and  sent  two  side 
tracks  lengthwise  through  the  middle  of  the 
elevator  and  a  third  along  the  south  side,  that 
is,  the  side  away  from  the  river. 

Bannon  glanced  over  the  lay  of  the  land, 
looked  more  particularly  at  the  long  ranges  of 
timber  to  be  used  for  framing  the  cupola,  and 
then  asked  a  passing  workman  the  way  to  the 
office.  He  frowned  at  the  wretched  shanty, 
evidently  an  abandoned  Belt  Line  section  house, 
which  Peterson  used  for  headquarters.  Then, 
setting  down  his  bag  just  outside  the  door,  he 
went  in. 

"  Where's  the  boss  ?  "  he  asked. 

The  occupant  of  the  office,  a  clerk,  looked  up 
impatiently,  and  spoke  in  a  tone  reserved  to 
discourage  seekers  for  work. 

"  He  ain't  here.  Out  on  the  job  some- 
where." 


4  Calumet  "^" 

"  Palatial  office  youVe  got,"  Bannon  com- 
mented. "  It  would  help  those  windows  to 
have  'em  ploughed."  He  brought  his  bag  into 
the  office  and  kicked  it  under  a  desk,  then  began 
turning  over  a  stack  of  blue  prints  that  lay, 
weighted  down  with  a  coupling  pin,  on  the 
table. 

"  I  guess  I  can  find  Peterson  for  you  if  you 
want  to  see  him,"  said  the  clerk. 

"  Don't  worry  about  my  finding  him,"  came 
from  Bannon,  deep  in  his  study  of  the  plans. 
A  moment  later  he  went  out. 

A  gang  of  laborers  was  engaged  in  moving 
the  timbers  back  from  the  railroad  siding.  Su- 
perintending the  work  was  a  squat  little  man  — 
Bannon  could  not  see  until  near  by  that  he 
was  not  a  boy  —  big-headed,  big-handed,  big- 
footed.  He  stood  there  in  his  shirt-sleeves,  his 
back  to  Bannon,  swearing  good-humoredly  at 
the  men.  When  he  turned  toward  him  Bannon 
saw  that  he  had  that  morning  played  an  un- 
conscious joke  upon  his  bright  red  hair  by 
putting  on  a  crimson  necktie. 

Bannon  asked  for  Peterson. 

"  He's  up  on  the  framing  of  the  spouting 
house,  over  on  the  wharf  there." 


Calumet  "K**  5 

"  What  are  you  carrying  that  stuff  around 
for  ?  "  asked  Bannon. 

"  Moving  it  back  to  make  room  by  the  sid- 
ing. We're  expecting  a  big  bill  of  cribbing. 
You're  Mr.  Bannon,  ain't  you  ? "  Bannon 
nodded.  "  Peterson  had  a  telegram  from  the 
office  saying  to  expect  you." 

"  You're  still  expecting  that  cribbing,  eh  ?  " 

"  Harder  than  ever.  That's  most  all  we've 
been  doing  for  ten  days.  There's  Peterson, 
now ;  up  there  with  the  sledge." 

Bannon  looked  in  time  to  see  the  boss  spring 
out  on  a  timber  that  was  still  balancing  and 
swaying  upon  the  hoisting  rope.  It  was  a  good 
forty  feet  above  the  dock.  Clinging  to  the 
rope  with  one  hand,  with  the  other  Peterson 
drove  his  sledge  against  the  side  of  the  timber 
which  swung  almost  to  its  exact  position  in 
the  framing. 

"  Slack  away ! "  he  called  to  the  engineers, 
and  he  cast  off  the  rope  sling.  Then  cautiously 
he  stepped  out  to  the  end  of  the  timber.  It  tot- 
tered, but  the  lithe  figure  moved  on  to  within 
striking  distance.  He  swung  the  twenty-four 
pound  sledge  in  a  circle  against  the  butt  of  the 
timber.     Every  muscle  in  his  body  from  the 


6  Calumet  ''K'* 

ankles  up  had  helped  to  deal  the  blow,  and  the 
big  stick  bucked.  The  boss  sprang  erect,  fling- 
ing his  arms  wide  and  using  the  sledge  to  re- 
cover his  balance.  He  struck  hard  once 
more  and  again  lightly.  Then  he  hammered 
the  timber  down  on  the  iron  dowel  pins.  "  All 
right,"  he  shouted  to  the  engineer ;  "  send  up 
the  next  one." 

A  few  minutes  later  Bannon  climbed  out  on 
the  framing  beside  him. 

"  Hello,  Charlie!  "  said  the  boss,  "  Fve  been 
looking  for  you.  They  wired  me  you  was 
coming." 

"  Well,  I'm  here,"  said  Bannon,  "  though  I 
'most  met  my  death  climbing  up  just  now. 
Where  do  you  keep  your  ladders?  " 

"  What  do  I  want  of  a  ladder  ?  Fve  no  use 
for  a  man  who  can't  get  up  on  the  timbers.  If 
a  man  needs  a  ladder,  he'd  better  stay  abed." 

"  That's  where  I  get  fired  first  thing,"  said 
Bannon. 

"  Why,  you  come  up  all  right,  with  your 
overcoat  on,  too." 

"  I  had  to  wear  it  or  scratch  up  the  timbers 
with  my  bones.  I  lost  thirty-two  pounds  up  at 
Duluth." 


Calumet  "K"  J 

Another  big  timber  came  swinging  up  to 
them  at  the  end  of  the  hoisting  rope.  Peterson 
sprang  out  upon  it.  "  I'm  going  down  before 
I  get  brushed  off,"  said  Bannon. 

"  ril  be  back  at  the  office  as  soon  as  I  get 
this  corbel  laid." 

"  No  hurry.  I  want  to  look  over  the  draw- 
ings. Go  easy  there,"  he  called  to  the  engineer 
at  the  hoist ;  "  I'm  coming  down  on  the  ele- 
vator." Peterson  had  already  cast  off  the  rope, 
but  Bannon  jumped  for  it  and  thrust  his  foot 
into  the  hook,  and  the  engineer,  not  knowing 
who  he  was,  let  him  down  none  too  gently. 

On  his  way  to  the  office  he  spoke  to  two 
carpenters  at  work  on  a  stick  of  timber. 
"  You'd  better  leave  that,  I  guess,  and  get  some 
four-inch  cribbing  and  some  inch  stuff  and 
make  some  ladders;  I  guess  there's  enough 
lying  'round  for  that.    About  four' 11  do." 

It  was  no  wonder  that  the  Calumet  K  job 
had  proved  too  much  for  Peterson.  It  was 
difficult  from  the  beginning.  There  was  not 
enough  ground  space  to  work  in  comfortably, 
and  the  proper  bestowal  of  the  millions  of  feet 
of  lumber  until  time  for  it  to  be  used  in  the  con- 
struction was  no  mean  problem.    The  elevator 


8  Calumet  ''K" 

was  to  be  a  typical  "  Chicago  "  house,  built  to 
receive  grain  from  cars  and  to  deliver  it  either 
to  cars  or  to  ships.  As  has  been  said,  it  stood 
back  from  the  river,  and  grain  for  ships  was  to 
be  carried  on  belt  conveyors  running  in  an  in- 
closed bridge  above  the  railroad  tracks  to  the 
small  spouting  house  on  the  wharf.  It  had 
originally  been  designed  to  have  a  capacity  for 
twelve  hundred  thousand  bushels,  but  the  grain 
men  who  were  building  it,  Page  &  Company, 
had  decided  after  it  was  fairly  started  that  it 
must  be  larger;  so,  in  the  midst  of  his  work, 
Peterson  had  received  instructions  and  draw- 
ings for  a  million  bushel  annex.  He  had  done 
excellent  work  —  work  satisfactory  even  to 
MacBride  &  Company  —  on  a  smaller  scale, 
and  so  he  had  been  given  the  opportunity,  the 
responsibility,  the  hundreds  of  employees,  the 
liberal  authority,  to  make  what  he  could  of  it 
all. 

There  could  be  no  doubt  that  he  had  made  a 
tangle;  that  the  big  job  as  a  whole  was  not 
under  his  hand,  but  was  just  running  itself  as 
best  it  could.  Bannon,  who,  since  the  days 
when  he  was  chief  of  the  wrecking  gang  on  a 
division  of  the  Grand  Trunk,  had  made  a  busi- 


Calumet  "AT"  9 

ness  of  rising  to  emergencies,  was  obviously  the 
man  for  the  situation.  He  was  worn  thin  as  an 
old  knife-blade,  he  was  just  at  the  end  of  a 
piece  of  work  that  would  have  entitled  any 
other  man  to  a  vacation;  but  MacBride  made 
no  apologies  when  he  assigned  him  the  new 
task — "  Go  down  and  stop  this  fiddling  around 
and  get  the  house  built.  See  that  it's  handling 
grain  before  you  come  away.  If  you  can't  do 
it,  I'll  come  down  and  do  it  myself." 

Bannon  shook  his  head  dubiously.     "  Well, 

I'm  not  sure "  he  began.    But  MacBride 

laughed,  whereupon  Bannon  grinned  in  spite 
of  himself.    "  All  right,"  he  said. 

It  was  no  laughing  matter,  though,  here  on 
the  job  this  Monday  morning,  and,  once  alone 
in  the  little  section  house,  he  shook  his  head 
again  gravely.  He  liked  Peterson  too  well,  for 
one  thing,  to  supersede  him  without  a  qualm. 
But  there  was  nothing  else  for  it,  and  he  took 
off  his  overcoat,  laid  aside  the  coupling  pin, 
and  attacked  the  stack  of  blue  prints. 

He  worked  rapidly,  turning  now  and  then 
from  the  plans  for  a  reference  to  the  building 
book  or  the  specifications,  whistling  softly, 
except  when  he  stopped  to  growl,  from  force 


lO  Calumet  "^" 

of  habit,  at  the  office,  or,  with  more  reasonable 
disapproval,  at  the  man  who  made  the  draw- 
ings for  the  annex.  "  Regular  damn  bird 
cage,'*  he  called  it. 

It  was  half  an  hour  before  Peterson  came  in. 
He  was  wiping  the  sweat  off  his  forehead  with 
the  back  of  his  hand,  and  drawing  long  breaths 
with  the  mere  enjoyment  of  living.  "  I  feel 
good,"  he  said.  "  That's  where  I'd  like  to 
work  all  day.  You  ought  to  go  up  and  sledge 
them  timbers  for  a  while.  That'd  warm  you 
through,  I  bet." 

"  You  ought  to  make  your  timekeeper  give 
you  one  of  those  brass  checks  there  and  pay  you 
eighteen  cents  an  hour  for  that  work.  That's 
what  I'd  do." 

Peterson  laughed.  It  took  more  than  a  hint 
to  reach  him.  "  I  have  to  do  it.  Those  labor- 
ers are  no  good.  Honest,  I  can  lift  as  much  as 
any  three  men  on  the  job." 

"  That's  all  right  if  those  same  three  don't 
stop  to  swap  lies  while  you're  lifting." 

"  Well,  I  guess  they  don't  come  any  of  that 
on  me,"  said  Peterson,  laughing  again.  "  How 
long  are  you  going  to  stay  with  us  ?  " 

The  office,  then,  had  not  told  him.    Bannon 


Calumet  "^"  II 

was  for  a  moment  at  a  loss  what  to  say.  Luck- 
ily there  was  an  interruption.  The  red-headed 
young  man  he  had  spoken  to  an  hour  before 
came  in,  tossed  a  tally  board  on  the  desk,  and 
said  that  another  carload  of  timber  had  come 
in. 

"  Mr.  Bannon,"  said  Peterson,  "  shake  hands 
with  Mr.  Max  Vogel,  our  lumber  checker." 
That  formality  attended  to,  he  turned  to  Ban- 
non  and  repeated  his  question.  By  that  time 
the  other  had  his  answer  ready. 

"  Oh,  it  all  depends  on  the  office,"  he  said. 
"  They're  bound  to  keep  me  busy  at  something. 
I'll  just  stay  until  they  tell  me  to  go  somewhere 
else.  They  ain't  happy  except  when  they've 
just  put  me  in  a  hole  and  told  me  to  climb  out. 
Generally  before  I'm  out  they  pick  me  up  and 
chuck  me  down  another  one.  Old  MacBride 
wouldn't  think  the  Company  was  prosperous  if 
I  wasn't  working  nights  and  Sundays." 

"  You  won't  be  doing  that  down  here." 

"  I  don't  know  about  that.  Why,  when  I 
first  went  to  work  for  'em,  they  hired  me  by 
the  day.  My  time  cards  for  the  first  years  fig- 
ured up  four  hundred  and  thirty-six  days." 
Peterson  laughed.    "  Oh,  that's  straight,"  said 


12  Calumet  '*K** 

Bannon.  "  Next  time  you're  at  the  office,  ask 
Brown  about  it.  Since  then  they've  paid  me  a 
salary.  They  seem  to  think  they'd  have  to  go 
out  of  business  if  I  ever  took  a  vacation.  I've 
been  with  'em  twelve  years  and  they've  never 
given  me  one  yet.  They  made  a  bluff  at  it 
once.  I  was  down  at  Newport  News,  been  do- 
ing a  job  for  the  C.  &  O.,  and  Fred  Brown  was 
down  that  way  on  business.    He " 

"  What  does  Brown  look  like  ?  "  interrupted 
Peterson.    "  I  never  saw  him." 

"  You  didn't !  Oh,  he's  a  good-looking 
young  chap.  Dresses  kind  of  sporty.  He's  a 
great  jollier.  You  have  to  know  him  a  while 
to  find  out  that  he  means  business.  Well,  he 
came  'round  and  saw  I  was  feeling  pretty  tired, 
so  he  asked  me  to  knock  off  for  a  week  and  go 
fishing  with  him.  I  did,  and  it  was  the  hardest 
work  I  ever  tackled." 

"  Did  you  get  any  fish  ?  " 

"  Fish  ?  Whales !  You'd  no  sooner  throw 
your  line  over  than  another  one'd  grab  it  — 
great,  big,  heavy  fish,  and  they  never  gave  us 
a  minute's  rest.  I  worked  like  a  horse  for 
about  half  a  day  and  then  I  gave  up.  Told 
Brown  Fd  take  a  duplex  car-puller  along  next 


Calumet  **K**  13 

time  I  tackled  that  kind  of  a  job,  and  I  went 
back  to  the  elevator." 

"  I'd  like  to  see  Brown.  I  get  letters  from 
him  right  along,  of  course.  He's  been  jollying 
me  about  that  cribbing  for  the  last  two  weeks. 
I  can't  make  it  grow,  and  I've  written  him 
right  along  that  we  was  expecting  it,  but  that 
don't  seem  to  satisfy  him." 

"  I  suppose  not,"  said,  Bannon.  "  They're 
mostly  out  for  results  up  at  the  office.  Let's 
see  the  bill  for  it."  Vogel  handed  him  a  thin 
typewritten  sheet  and  Bannon  looked  it  over 
thoughtfully.  "Big  lot  of  stuff,  ain't  it? 
Have  you  tried  to  get  any  of  it  here  in  Chi- 
cago? " 

"  Course  not.  It's  all  ordered  and  cut  out  up 
to  Ledyard." 

"  Cut  out  ?    Then  why  don't  they  send  it  ?  " 

"  They  can't  get  the  cars." 

"  That'll  do  to  tell.  *  Can't  get  the  cars! ' 
What  sort  of  a  railroad  have  they  got  up 
there?" 

"  Max,  here,  can  tell  you  about  that,  I  guess," 
said  Peterson. 

"  It's  the  G.  &  M.,"  said  the  lumber  checker. 
"  That's  enough  for  any  one  who's  lived  in 
Michigan.    It  ain't  much  good." 


14  Calumet  "J^" 

"  How  long  have  they  kept  'em  waiting  for 
the  cars  ?  " 

"  How  long  is  it,  Max  ?  "  asked  Peterson. 

"  Let's  see.  It  was  two  weeks  ago  come 
Tuesday." 

"Sure?" 

"  Yes.  We  got  the  letter  the  same  day  the 
red-headed  man  came  here.  His  hair  was  good 
and  red."  Max  laughed  broadly  at  the  recollec- 
tion. "  He  came  into  the  office  just  as  we  was 
reading  it." 

"Oh,  yes.  My  friend,  the  walking  delegate." 

"What's  that?"  Bannon  snapped  the  words 
out  so  sharply  that  Peterson  looked  at  him  in 
slow  surprise. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  he  said.  "  A  darn  little  rat 
of  a  red-headed  walking  delegate  came  out 
here  —  had  a  printed  card  with  Business  Agent 
on  it  —  and  poked  his  long  nose  into  other 
people's  business  for  a  while,  and  asked  the  men 
questions,  and  at  last  he  came  to  me.  I  told 
him  that  we  treated  our  men  all  right  and  didn't 
need  no  help  from  him,  and  if  I  ever  caught 
him  out  here  again  I'd  carry  him  up  to  the  top 
of  the  jim  pole  and  leave  him  there.  He  went 
fast  enough." 


Calumet  "^"  15 

"  I  wish  he'd  knocked  you  down  first,  to  even 
things  up,"  said  Bannon. 

"  Him !  Oh,  I  could  have  handled  him  with 
three  fingers." 

"  I'm  going  out  for  a  look  around,"  said 
Bannon,  abruptly. 

He  left  Peterson  still  smiling  good-hu- 
moredly  over  the  incident. 

It  was  not  so  much  to  look  over  the  job  as  to 
get  where  he  could  work  out  his  wrath  that 
Bannon  left  the  office.  There  was  no  use  in 
trying  to  explain  to  Peterson  what  he  had  done, 
for  even  if  he  could  be  made  to  understand,  he 
could  undo  nothing.  Bannon  had  known  a 
good  many  walking  delegates,  and  he  had 
found  them,  so  far,  square.  But  it  would  be  a 
large-minded  man  who  could  overlook  what 
Peterson  had  done.  However,  there  was  no 
help  for  it.  All  that  remained  was  to  wait  till 
the  business  agent  should  make  the  next  move. 

So  Bannon  put  the  whole  incident  out  of  his 
mind,  and  until  noon  inspected  the  job  in  ear- 
nest. By  the  time  the  whistle  blew,  every  one 
of  the  hundreds  of  men  on  the  job,  save  Peter- 
son himself,  knew  that  there  was  a  new  boss. 
There  was  no  formal  assumption  of  authority ; 


i6  Calumet  "AT" 

Bannon's  supremacy  was  established  simply  by 
the  obvious  fact  that  he  was  the  man  who  knew 
how.  Systematizing  the  confusion  in  one 
corner,  showing  another  gang  how  to  save 
handling  a  big  stick  twice,  finally  putting  a  run- 
way across  the  drillage  of  the  annex,  and  doing 
a  hundred  little  things  between  times,  he  made 
himself  master. 

The  afternoon  he  spent  in  the  little  office,  and 
by  four  o'clock  had  seen  everything  there  was  in 
it,  plans,  specifications,  building  book,  bill  file, 
and  even  the  pay  roll,  the  cash  account,  and  the 
correspondence.  The  clerk,  who  was  also  time- 
keeper, exhibited  the  latter  rather  grudgingly. 

"What's  all  this  stuff?"  Bannon  asked, 
holding  up  a  stack  of  unfiled  letters. 

"  Letters  we  ain't  answered  yet." 

"  Well,  we'll  answer  them  now,"  and  Bannon 
commenced  dictating  his  reply  to  the  one  on  top 
of  the  stack. 

"  Hold  on,'*  said  the  clerk,  "  I  ain't  a  stenog- 
rapher." 

"  So  ?  "  said  Bannon.  He  scribbled  a  brief 
memorandum  on  each  sheet.  "  There's  enough 
to  go  by,"  he  said.    "  Answer  'em  according  to 


Calumet  "AT"  17 

"  I  won't  have  time  to  do  it  till  to-morrow 
some  time." 

"  I'd  do  it  to-night,  if  I  were  you,"  said  Ban- 
non,  significantly.  Then  he  began  writing 
letters  himself. 

Peterson  and  Vogel  came  into  the  office  a 
few  minutes  later. 

"  Writing  a  letter  to  your  girl  ?  "  said  Peter- 
son, jocularly. 

"  We  ought  to  have  a  stenographer  out  here, 
Pete." 

"  Stenographer !  I  didn't  know  you  was 
such  a  dude.  You'll  be  wanting  a  solid  silver 
electric  bell  connecting  with  the  sody  fountain 
next." 

"That's  straight,"  said  Bannon.  "We 
ought  to  have  a  stenographer  for  a  fact." 

He  said  nothing  until  he  had  finished  and 
sealed  the  two  letters  he  was  writing.  They 
were  as  follows :  — 

Dear  Mr.  Brown  :  It's  a  mess  and  no  mistake.  Pm 
glad  Mr.  MacBride  didn't  come  to  see  it.  He'd  have  fits. 
The  whole  job  is  tied  up  in  a  hard  knot:  Peterson  is 
wearing  out  chair  bottoms  waiting  for  the  cribbing  from 
Ledyard.  I  expect  we  will  have  a  strike  before  long.  I 
mean  it. 

The  main  house  is  most  up  to  the  distributing  floor, 
c 


i8  Calumet  ''K'' 

The  spouting  house  is  framed.    The  annex  is  up  as  far  as 
the  bottom,  waiting  for  cribbing.  Yours, 

Bannon. 

P.S.  I  hope  this  letter  makes  you  sweat  to  pay  you  for 
last  Saturday  night.  I  am  about  dead.  Can't  get  any 
sleep.  And  I  lost  thirty-two  pounds  up  to  Duluth.  I 
expect  to  die  down  here.  C.  B. 

P.S.  I  guess  we'd  better  set  fire  to  the  whole  damn 
thing  and  collect  the  insurance  and  skip.  C. 

The  other  was  shorter. 
MacBride  &  Company,  Minneapolis : 

Gentlemen :  I  came  on  the  Calumet  job  to-day.    Found 
it  held  up  by  failure  of  cribbing  from  Ledyard.    Will  have 
at  least  enough  to  work  with  by  end  of  the  week.     We 
will  get  the  house  done  according  to  specifications. 
Yours  truly, 

MacBride  &  Company. 
Charles  Bannon. 


CHAPTER  II 

The  five  o^clock  whistle  had  sounded,  and 
Peterson  sat  on  the  bench  inside  the  office  door, 
while  Bannon  washed  his  hands  in  the  tin  basin. 
The  twilight  was  already  settling;  within  the 
shanty,  whose  dirty,  small-paned  windows 
served  only  to  indicate  the  lesser  darkness  with- 
out, a  wall  lamp,  set  in  a  dull  reflector,  threw 
shadows  into  the  corners. 

"  You're  coming  up  with  me,  ain't  you  ?  " 
said  Peterson.  "  I  don't  believe  you'll  get  much 
to  eat.  Supper's  just  the  pickings  from  din- 
ner." 

"  Well,  the  dinner  was  all  right.  But  I  wish 
you  had  a  bigger  bed.  I  ain't  slept  for  two 
nights." 

"  What  was  the  matter?  " 

"  I  was  on  the  sleeper  last  night ;  and  I  didn't 
get  in  from  tfie  Duluth  job  till  seven  o'clock 
19 


20  Calumet  "K" 

Saturday  night,  and  Brown  was  after  me  be- 
fore I*d  got  my  supper.  Those  fellows  at  the 
office  wouldn't  let  a  man  sleep  at  all  if  they 
could  help  it.  Here  I'd  been  working  like  a 
nigger  'most  five  months  on  the  Duluth  house 

—  and  the  last  three  weeks  running  night  shifts 
and  Sundays ;  didn't  stop  to  eat,  half  the  time 

—  and  what  does  Brown  do  but  —  *  Well,'  he 
says,  '  how're  you  feeling,  Charlie  ?  '  *  Mid- 
dling,' said  I.  *  Are  you  up  to  a  little  job  to- 
morrow ?  '  '  What's  that  ?  '  I  said.  '  Seems  to 
me  if  I've  got  to  go  down  to  the  Calumet  job 
Sunday  night  I  might  have  an  hour  or  so  at 
home.'  *  Well,  Charlie,'  he  says,  '  I'm  mighty 
sorry,  but  you  see  we've  been  putting  in  a  big 
rope  drive  on  a  water-power  plant  over  at  Still- 
water. We  got  the  job  on  the  high  bid,'  he 
says,  '  and  we  agreed  to  have  it  running  on 
Monday  morning.  It'll  play  the  devil  with  us 
if  we  can't  make  good.'  *  What's  the  matter?  ' 
said  I.  '  Well,'  he  says,  '  Murphy's  had  the 
job  and  has  balled  himself  up.'  " 

By  this  time  the  two  men  had  their  coats  on, 
and  were  outside  the  building. 

"  Let's  see,"  said  Bannon,  "  we  go  this  way, 
don't  we?" 


Calumet  ''K**  21 

"  Yes/' 

There  was  still  the  light,  flying  flakes  of 
snow,  and  the  biting  wind  that  came  sweeping 
down  from  the  northwest.  The  two  men 
crossed  the  siding,  and,  picking  their  way  be- 
tween the  freight  cars  on  the  Belt  Line  tracks, 
followed  the  path  that  wound  across  the  stretch 
of  dusty  meadow. 

"Go  ahead,"  said  Peterson;  "you  was  tell- 
ing about  Murphy." 

"  Well,  that  was  the  situation.  I  could  see 
that  Brown  was  up  on  his  hind  legs  about  it, 
but  it  made  me  tired,  all  the  same.  Of  course 
the  job  had  to  be  done,  but  I  wasn't  letting  him 
have  any  satisfaction.  I  told  him  he  ought  to 
give  it  to  somebody  else,  and  he  handed  me  a 
lot  of  stuff  about  my  experience.  Finally  I 
said :  *  You  come  around  in  the  morning,  Mr. 
Brown.  I  ain't  had  any  sleep  to  speak  of  for 
three  weeks.  I  lost  thirty-two  pounds,*  I  said, 
'  and  I  ain't  going  to  be  bothered  to-night.' 
Well,  sir,  he  kind  of  shook  his  head,  but  he 
went  away,  and  I  got  to  thinking  about  it. 
Long  about  half-past  seven  I  went  down  and 
got  a  time-table.  There  was  a  train  to  Still- 
water at  eight- forty-two." 


22  Calumet  *'K'* 

"That  night?" 

"  Sure.  I  went  over  to  the  shops  with  an 
express  wagon  and  got  a  thousand  feet  of  rope 

—  had  it  in  two  coils  so  I  could  handle  it  — 
and  just  made  the  train.  It  was  a  mean  night. 
There  was  some  rain  when  I  started,  but  you 
ought  to  have  seen  it  when  I  got  to  Stillwater 

—  it  was  coming  down  in  layers,  and  mud  that 
sucked  your  feet  down  halfway  to  your  knees. 
There  wasn't  a  wagon  anywhere  around  the 
station,  and  the  agent  wouldn't  lift  a  finger.  It 
was  blind  dark.  I  walked  off  the  end  of  the 
platform,  and  went  plump  into  a  mudhole.  I 
waded  up  as  far  as  the  street  crossing,  where 
there  was  an  electric  light,  and  ran  across  a  big 
lumber  yard,  and  hung  around  until  I  found  the 
night  watchman.  He  was  pretty  near  as  mean 
as  the  station  agent,  but  he  finally  let  me  have  a 
wheelbarrow  for  half  a  dollar,  and  told  me  how 
to  get  to  the  job. 

"  He  called  it  fifty  rods,  but  it  was  a  clean 
mile  if  it  was  a  step,  and  most  of  the  way  down 
the  track.  I  wheeled  her  back  to  the  station, 
got  the  rope,  and  started  out.  Did  you  ever  try 
to  shove  two  five  hundred  foot  coils  over  a 
mile  of  crossties  ?    Well,  that's  what  I  did.    I 


Calumet  "iT"  23 

scraped  off  as  much  mud  as  I  could,  so  I  could 
lift  my  feet,  and  bumped  over  those  ties  till  I 
thought  the  teeth  were  going  to  be  jarred  clean 
out  of  me.  After  I  got  off  the  track  there  was  a 
stretch  of  mud  that  left  the  road  by  the  station 
up  on  dry  land. 

"  There  was  a  fool  of  a  night  watchman  at 
the  power  plant  —  I  reckon  he  thought  I  was 
going  to  steal  the  turbines,  but  he  finally  let  me 
in,  and  I  set  him  to  starting  up  the  power  while 
I  cleaned  up  Murphy's  job  and  put  in  the  new 
rope." 

"  All  by  yourself?  "  asked  Peterson. 

"  Sure  thing.  Then  I  got  her  going  and  she 
worked  .  smooth  as  grease.  When  we  shut 
down  and  I  came  up  to  wash  my  hands,  it  was 
five  minutes  of  three.  I  said,  *  Is  there  a  train 
back  to  Minneapolis  before  very  long  ?  '  *  Yes,' 
says  the  watchman,  *  the  fast  freight  goes 
through  a  little  after  three.'  *  How  much 
after  ?  '  I  said.  *  Oh,'  he  says,  *  I  couldn't  say 
exactly.  Five  or  eight  minutes,  I  guess.'  I 
asked  when  the  next  train  went,  and  he  said 
there  wasn't  a  regular  passenger  till  six-fifty- 
five.  Well,  sir,  maybe  you  think  I  was  going 
to  wait   four  hours   in  that  hole!     I   went 


24  Calumet  ''K'' 

out  of  that  building  to  beat  the  limited  — 
never  thought  of  the  wheelbarrow  till  I  was 
halfway  to  the  station.  And  there  was 
some  of  the  liveliest  stepping  you  ever  saw. 
Couldn't  see  a  thing  except  the  light  on  the 
rails  from  the  arc  lamp  up  by  the  station. 
I  got  about  halfway  there  —  running  along 
between  the  rails  —  and  banged  into  a  switch 
—  knocked  me  seven  ways  for  Sunday.  Lost 
my  hat  picking  myself  up,  and  couldn't  stop  to 
find  it." 

Peterson  turned  in  toward  one  of  a  long  row 
of  square  frame  houses. 

"  Here  we  are,"  he  said.  As  they  went  up 
the  stairs  he  asked :  "  Did  you  make  the 
train?" 

"  Caught  the  caboose  just  as  she  was  swing- 
ing out.  They  dumped  me  out  in  the  freight 
yards,  and  I  didn't  get  home  till  'most  five 
o'clock.  I  went  right  to  bed,  and  along  about 
eight  o'clock  Brown  came  in  and  woke  me  up. 
He  was  feeling  pretty  nervous.  '  Say,  Charlie,' 
he  said,  '  ain't  it  time  for  you  to  be  starting? ' 
*  Where  to?  '  said  I.  *  Over  to  Stillwater,'  he 
said.  *  There  ain't  any  getting  out  of  it.  That 
drive's  got  to  be  running  to-morrow.'    *  That's 


Calumet  "AT'*  35 

all  right/  said  I,  *but  I'd  like  to  know  if  I 
can't  have  one  day's  rest  between  jobs  —  Sun- 
day, too.  And  I  lost  thirty-two  pounds.'  Well- 
sir,  he  didn't  know  whether  to  get  hot  or  not 
I  guess  he  thought  himself  they  were  kind  of 
rubbing  it  in.  *  Look  here,'  he  said,  '  are  you 
going  to  Stillwater,  or  ain't  you  ?  '  *  No,'  said 
I,  *  I  ain't.  Not  for  a  hundred  rope  drives.' 
Well,  he  just  got  up  and  took  his  hat  and 
started  out.  *  Mr.  Brown,'  I  said,  when  he  was 
opening  the  door,  *  I  lost  my  hat  down  at  Still- 
water last  night.  I  reckon  the  office  ought  to 
stand  for  it.'  He  turned  around  and  looked 
queer,  and  then  he  grinned.  *  So  you  went 
over  ?' he  said.  '  I  reckon  I  did,' said  I.  'What 
kind  of  a  hat  did  you  lose  ? '  he  asked,  and  he 
grinned  again.  *  I  guess  it  wa»  a  silk  one, 
wasn't  it  ?  '  '  Yes,'  said  I,  *  a  silk  hat  —  some- 
thing about  eight  dollars.'  " 

"  Did  he  mean  he'd  give  you  a  silk  hat  ?  " 
asked  Peterson. 

"  Couldn't  say." 

They  were  sitting  in  the  ten-by-twelve  room 
that  Peterson  rented  for  a  dollar  a  week.  Ban- 
non  had  the  one  chair,  and  was  sitting  tipped 
back  against  the  washstand.     Peterson  sat  on 


26  Calumet  ''K'' 

the  bed.  Bannon  had  thrown  his  overcoat  over 
the  foot  of  the  bed,  and  had  dropped  his  bag  on 
the  floor  by  the  window. 

"  Ain't  it  time  to  eat,  Pete?  "  he  said. 

"  Yes,  there's  the  bell." 

The  significance  of  Bannon's  arrival,*  and  the 
fact  that  he  was  planning  to  stay,  was  slow  in 
coming  to  Peterson.  After  supper,  when  they 
had  returned  to  the  room,  his  manner  showed 
constraint.     Finally  he  said :  — 

"  Is  there  any  fuss  up  at  the  office  ?  " 

"What  about?" 

"  Why  —  do  they  want  to  rush  the  job  or 
something  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  haven't  got  such  a  lot  of  time. 
You  see,  it's  November  already." 

"  What's  the  hurry  all  of  a  sudden  ?  They 
didn't  say  nothing  to  me." 

"  I  guess  you  haven't  been  crowding  it  very 
hard,  have  you  ?  " 

Peterson  flushed. 

"  I've  been  working  harder  than  I  ever  did 
before,"  he  said.  "  If  it  wasn't  for  the  crib- 
bing being  held  up  like  this,  I'd  'a'  had  the  cu- 
pola half  done  before  now.  I've  been  playing 
in  hard  luck." 


Calumet  "AT'*  27 

Bannon  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then  he 
said :  — 

"  How  long  do  you  suppose  it  would  take  to 
get  the  cribbing  down  from  Ledyard  ?  " 

"  Not  very  long  if  it  was  rushed,  I  should 
think  —  a  couple  of  days,  or  maybe  three.  And 
they'll  rush  it  all  right  when  they  can  get  the 
cars.  You  see,  it's  only  ten  or  eleven  hours 
up  there,  passenger  schedule;  and  they  could 
run  it  right  in  on  the  job  over  the  Belt 
Line." 

"  It's  the  Belt  Line  that  crosses  the  bridge, 
is  it?" 

"  Yes." 

Bannon  spread  his  legs  apart  and  drummed 
on  the  front  of  his  chair. 

"  What's  the  other  line?  "  he  asked  —  "  the 
four  track  line  ?  " 

"  That's  the  C.  &  S.  C.  We  don't  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  them." 

They  were  both  silent  for  a  time.  The  flush 
had  not  left  Peterson's  face.  His  eyes  were 
roving  over  the  carpet,  lifting  now  and  then  to 
Bannon's  face  with  a  quick  glance. 

"  Guess  I'll  shave,"  said  Bannon.  "  Do  you 
get  hot  water  here  ?  " 


28  Calumet  ''K'' 

"  Why,  I  don't  know,"  replied  Peterson.  "  I 
generally  use  cold  water.  The  folks  here  ain't 
very  obliging.    Kind  o'  poor,  you  know." 

Bannon  was  rummaging  in  his  grip  for  his 
shaving  kit. 

"  You  never  saw  a  razor  like  that,  Pete,"  he 
said.    "  Just  heft  it  once." 

"  Light,  ain't  it,"  said  Peterson,  taking  it  in 
his  hand. 

"  You  bet  it's  light.  And  look  here  "  —  he 
reached  for  it  and  drew  it  back  and  forth  over 
the  palm  of  his  hand  —  "  that's  the  only  strop- 
ping I  ever  give  it." 

"  Don't  you  have  to  hone  it?  " 

"  No,  sir ;  it's  never  been  touched  to  a  stone 
or  leather.  You  just  get  up  and  try  it  once. 
Those  whiskers  of  yours  won't  look  any  the 
worse  for  a  chopping." 

Peterson  laughed,  and  lathered  his  face, 
while  Bannon  put  an  edge  on  the  razor,  testing 
it  with  a  hair. 

"  Say,  that's  about  the  best  yet,"  said  Peter- 
son, after  the  first  stroke. 

"  You're  right  it  is." 

Bannon  looked  on  for  a  few  minutes,  then  he 
took  a  railroad  "  Pathfinder"  from  his  grip  and 


Calumet  ''K''  29 

rapidly  turned  the  pages.  Peterson  saw  it  in 
the  mirror,  and  asked,  between  strokes :  — 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  Looking  up  trains." 

While  Peterson  was  splashing  in  the  wash- 
bowl, Bannon  took  his  turn  at  the  mirror. 

"  How's  the  Duluth  job  getting  on  ?  "  asked 
Peterson,  when  Bannon  had  finished,  and  was 
wiping  his  razor. 

"  All  right  -^  'most  done.  Just  a  little  mill- 
wright work  left,  and  some  cleaning  up." 

"  There  ain't  any  marine  leg  on  the  house,  is 
there?" 

"  No." 

"  How  big  a  house  is  it  ?  " 

"  Eight  hundred  thousand  bushels." 

"  That  so  ?  Ain't  half  as  big  as  this  one,  is 
it?" 

"  Guess  not.  Built  for  the  same  people, 
though,  Page  &  Company." 

"  They  must  be  going  in  pretty  heavy." 

"  They  are.  There's  a  good  deal  of  talk 
about  it.  Some  of  the  boys  up  at  the  office  say 
there's  going  to  be  fun  with  December  wheat 
before  they  get  through  with  it.  It's  been  go- 
ing up  pretty  steadily  since  the  end  of  Septem- 


30  Calumet  "^" 

ber  —  it  was  seventy- four  and  three-eighths 
Saturday  in  Minneapolis.  It  ain't  got  up  quite 
so  high  down  here  yet,  but  the  boys  say  there's 
going  to  be  a  lot  of  money  in  it  for  somebody." 

"  Be  a  kind  of  a  good  thing  to  get  in  on, 
eh  ?  "  said  Peterson,  cautiously. 

"  Maybe,  for  those  that  like  to  put  money  in 
wheat.  Fve  got  no  money  for  that  sort  of 
thing  myself." 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  was  Peterson's  quick  re- 
ply. "  A  fellow  doesn't  want  to  run  them  kind 
o'  chances.    I  don't  believe  in  it  myself." 

"The  fact's  this,  —  and  this  is  just  between 
you  and  me,  mind  you ;  I  don't  know  anything 
about  it,  it's  only  what  I  think,  —  somebody.' s 
buying  a  lot  of  December  wheat,  or  the  price 
wouldn't  keep  going  up.  And  I've  got  a  notion 
that,  whoever  he  is,  it's  Page  &  Company 
that's  selling  it  to  him.  That's  just  putting 
two  and  two  together,  you  see.  It's  the  real 
grain  that  the  Pages  handle,  and  if  they  sell  to 
a  man  it  means  that  they're  going  to  make  a 
mighty  good  try  at  unloading  it  on  him  and 
making  him  pay  for  it.  That's  all  I  know 
about  it.  I  see  the  Pages  selling  —  or  what 
looks  mighty  like  it  — r  and  I  see  them  begin- 


Calumet  "AT"  31 

ning  to  look  around  and  talk  on  the  quiet  about 
crowding  things  a  little  on  their  new  houses, 
and  it  just  strikes  me  that  there's  likely  to  be  a 
devil  of  a  lot  of  wheat  coming  into  Chicago  be- 
fore the  year  runs  out;  and  if  that's  so,  why, 
there's  got  to  be  a  place  to  put  it  when  it  gets 
here." 

"  Do  they  have  to  have  an  elevator  to  put  it 
in  ?  "  asked  Peterson.  "  Can't  they  deliver  it 
in  the  cars?  I  don't  know  much  about  that 
side  of  the  business." 

"  I  should  say  not.  The  Board  of  Trade 
won't  recognize  grain  as  delivered  until  it  has 
been  inspected  and  stored  in  a  registered 
house." 

"  When  would  the  house  have  to  be  ready?  " 

"  Well,  if  I'm  right,  if  they're  going  to  put 
December  wheat  in  this  house,  they'll  have  to 
have  it  in  before  the  last  day  of  December." 

"  We  couldn't  do  that,"  said  Peterson,  "  if 
the  cribbing  was  here." 

Bannon,  who  had  stretched  out  on  the  bed, 
swung  his  feet  around  and  sat  up.  The  situa- 
tion was  not  easy,  but  he  had  been  sent  to  Calu- 
met to  get  the  work  done  in  time,  and  he  meant 
to  do  it. 


32  Calumet  '*K** 

"  Now,  about  this  cribbing,  Pete,**  he  said ; 
"  weVe  got  to  have  it  before  we  can  touch  the 
annex?" 

"  I  guess  that's  about  it,"  Peterson  repHed. 

"  I've  been  figuring  a  little  on  this  bill.  I 
take  it  there's  something  over  two  million  feet 
altogether.     Is  that  right  ?  " 

"  It's  something  like  that.  Couldn't  say  ex- 
actly.   Max  takes  care  of  the  lumber." 

Bannon's  brows  came  together. 

"  You  ought  to  know  a  little  more  about  this 
yourself,  Pete.  You're  the  man  that's  build- 
ing the  house." 

"  I  guess  I've  been  pushing  it  along  as  well 
as  any  one  could,"  said  Peterson,  sullenly. 

"  That's  all  right.  I  ain't  hitting  at  you. 
I'm  talking  business,  that's  all.  Now,  if 
Vogel's  right,  this  cribbing  ought  to  have  been 
here  fourteen  days  ago —  fourteen  days  to- 
morrow." 

Peterson  nodded. 

"  That's  just  two  weeks  of  lost  time.  How've 
you  been  planning  to  make  that  up  ?  " 

"  Why  —  why  —  I  reckon  I  can  put  things 
together  soon's  I  get  the  cribbing." 

"  Look    here,    Pete.      The  office  has  con- 


Calumet  ''K"  33 

tracted  to  get  this  house  done  by  a  certain  date. 
They've  got  to  pay  $750  for  every  day  that  we 
run  over  that  date.  There's  no  getting  out  of 
that,  cribbing  or  no  cribbing.  When  they're 
seeing  ten  or  twenty  thousand  dollars  slipping 
out  of  their  hands,  do  you  think  they're  going 
to  thank  you  for  telling  'em  that  the  G.  &  M. 
railroad  couldn't  get  cars?  They  don't  care 
what's  the  matter  —  all  they  want  of  you  is  to 
do  the  work  on  time." 

"  Now,  look  here,  Charlie " 

"  Hold  on,  Pete.  Don't  get  mad.  It's  facts, 
that's  all.  Here's  these  two  weeks  gone.  You 
see  that,  all  right  enough.  Now,  the  way  this 
work's  laid  out,  a  man's  got  to  make  every  day 
count  right  from  the  start  if  he  wants  to  land 
on  his  feet  when  the  house  is  done.  Maybe  you 
think  somebody  up  in  the  sky  is  going  to  hand 
you  down  a  present  of  two  extra  weeks  so  the 
lost  time  won't  count.  That  would  be  all  right, 
only  it  ain't  very  likely  to  happen." 

"  Well,"  said  Peterson,  "  what  are  you  get- 
ting at?  What  do  you  want  me  to  do?  Per- 
haps you  think  it's  easy." 

"  No,  I  don't.  But  I'll  tell  you  what  to  do. 
In  the  first  place  you  want  to  quit  this  getting 


34  Calumet  "AT" 

out  on  the  job  and  doing  a  laborer's  work.  Th^ 
office  is  paying  out  good  money  to  the  men 
that  should  do  that.  You  know  how  to  lay  a 
corbel,  but  just  now  you  couldn't  tell  me  how 
much  cribbing  was  coming.  You're  paid  to  di- 
rect this  whole  job  and  to  know  all  about  it, 
not  to  lay  corbels.  If  you  put  in  half  a  day 
swinging  a  sledge  out  there  on  the  spouting 
house,  how're  you  going  to  know  that  the  lum- 
ber bills  tally,  and  the  carpenters  ain't  making 
mistakes,  and  that  the  timber's  piled  right. 
Here  to-day  you  had  a  dozen  men  throwing 
away  their  time  moving  a  lot  of  timber  that 
ought  to  have  been  put  in  the  right  place  when 
it  first  came  in." 

Peterson  was  silent. 

.  "  Now  to-morrow,  Pete,  as  soon  as  youVe 
got  the  work  moving  along,  you'd  better  go 
over  to  the  electric  light  company  and  see  about 
having  the  whole  ground  wired  for  arc  lamps, 
so  we  can  be  ready  to  put  on  a  night  shift  the 
minute  the  cribbing  comes  in.  You  want  to 
crowd  'em,  too.  They  ought  to  have  it  ready 
in  two  days." 

Bannon  sat  for  a  moment,  then  he  arose 
and  looked  at  his  watch. 


Calumet  "iT"  35 

"  Tm  going  to  leave  you,  Pete,"  he  said,  as 
he  put  on  his  collar. 

"  Where're  you  going?  " 

"  I've  got  to  get  up  to  the  city  to  make  the 
ten  o'clock  train.  I'm  going  up  to  Ledyard  to 
get  the  cribbing.    Be  back  in  a  couple  of  days." 

He  threw  his  shaving  kit  into  his  grip,  put 
on  his  overcoat,  said  good-night,  and  went  out. 


CHAPTER  III 

Next  morning  at  eight  o'clock  Charlie  Ban- 
non  walked  into  the  office  of  C.  H.  Dennis,  the 
manager  of  the  Ledyard  Salt  and  Lumber 
Company. 

"  Fm  Bannon,'*  he  said,  "  of  MacBride  & 
Company.  Come  up  to  see  why  you  don't  get 
out  our  bill  of  cribbing." 

"  Told  you  by  letter,"  retorted  Dennis. 
"  We  can't  get  the  cars." 

"  I  know  you  did.  That's  a  good  thing  to 
say  in  a  letter.  I  wanted  to  find  out  how  much 
of  it  really  was  cut." 

"  It's  all  cut  and  stacked  by  the  siding,  tak- 
ing up  half  the  yard.    Want  to  see  it?  " 

Bannon  smiled  and  nodded.  "  Here's  a 
good  cigar  for  you,"  he  said,  "and  you're  a 
good  fellow,  but  I  think  I'd  like  to  see  the  crib- 
bing." 

36 


Calumet  "iT"  37 

"Oh,  that's  all  right,"  laughed  Dennis. 
"  I'd  have  said  the  same  thing  if  it  wasn't  cut. 
Come  out  this  way.*' 

Bannon  followed  him  out  into  the  yard. 
"  There  it  is,"  said  the  manager. 

There  was  no  need  of  pointing  it  out.  It 
made  a  pile  more  than  three  hundred  feet  long. 
It  was  nothing  but  rough  hemlock,  two  inches 
thick,  and  from  two  to  ten  inches  wide,  in- 
tended to  be  spiked  together  flatwise  for  the 
walls  of  the  bins,  but  its  bulk  was  impressive. 
Bannon  measured  it  with  his  eye  and  whistled. 
*'  I  wish  that  had  been  down  on  our  job  ten 
days  ago,"  he  said,  presently.  "  I'd  be  taking 
a  vacation  now  if  it  had." 

"  Well,  it  was  ready  then.  You  can  tell  by 
the  color." 

"  What's  the  matter  with  the  G.  &  M.  any- 
way? They  don't  seem  to  be  hauling  very 
much.  I  noticed  that  last  night  when  I  came 
up.    I'm  no  good  at  sleeping  on  the  train." 

"  Search  me,"  said  Dennis.  "  They've  tied 
us  up  for  these  two  weeks.  I've  kicked  for 
cars,  and  the  old  man  —  that's  Sloan  —  he's 
kicked,  but  here  we  are  yet  —  can't  move  hand 
or  foot." 


38  Calumet  ''K** 

"Who^s  Sloan?" 

"  Oh,  he's  the  whole  thing.  Owns  the  First 
National  Bank  and  the  trolley  line  and  the 
Ledyard  Salt  and  Lumber  Company  and  most 
of  the  down-town  real  estate." 

"  Where  can  I  find  him?    Is  he  in  town?  " 

"  I  guess  so.  He's  got  an  office  across  the 
river.  Just  ask  anybody  where  the  Sloan 
Building  is." 

"  Likely  to  be  there  as  early  as  this  ?  "  asked 
Bannon,  looking  at  his  watch. 

"  Sure,  if  he's  in  town." 

Bannon  slipped  his  watch  into  his  pocket. 
"  Much  obliged,"  he  said.  "  Glad  to  have  met 
you.  Good  morning;"  and,  turning,  he  walked 
rapidly  away  down  the  plank  wagon  road. 

In  Sloan's  office  he  stated  his  errand  as 
briefly  as  on  the  former  occasion,  adding  only 
that  he  had  already  seen  Dennis. 

"  I  guess  he  told  you  all  there  is  to  tell,"  said 
the  magnate.  "  We  can't  make  the  G.  &  M. 
give  us  cars.  I've  told  Dennis  to  stir  'em  up 
as  hard  as  he  could.  I  guess  we'll  have  to 
wait." 

"  I  can't  wait." 

**  What  else  can  you  do  ?    It's  every  bit  as 


Calumet  "^"  39 

bad  for  us  as  it  is  for  you,  and  you  can  rest 
assured  that  we'll  do  all  we  can."  As  if  the 
cadence  of  his  last  sentence  were  not  sufficiently 
recognizable  as  a  formula  of  dismissal,  he 
picked  up  a  letter  that  lay  on  his  desk  and 
began  reading  it. 

"  This  isn't  an  ordinary  kick,"  said  Bannon, 
sharply.  "  It  isn't  just  a  case  of  us  having  to 
pay  a  big  delay  forfeit.  There's  a  reason  why 
our  job's  got  to  be  done  on  time.  I  want  to 
know  the  reason  why  the  G.  &  M.  won't  give 
you  cars.  It  ain't  because  they  haven't  got 
them." 

"  What  makes  you  say  that  ?  " 

"  Because  there's  three  big  strings  of  emp- 
ties within  twenty  miles  of  here  this  minute. 
I  saw  them  when  I  came  up  this  morning." 

For  a  minute  Sloan  said  nothing,  only  traced 
designs  on  the  blotter  with  his  pencil.  Bannon 
saw  that  there  was  no  longer  any  question  of 
arousing  his  interest.    At  last  he  spoke :  — 

"  I've  suspected  that  there  was  something  in 
the  wind,  but  I've  been  too  busy  with  other 
things  to  tend  to  it,  so  I  turned  it  over  to  Den- 
nis. Perhaps  he's  done  as  well  as  I  could.  I 
don't  know  much  about  G.  &  M.  these  days. 


40  Calumet  "K" 

For  a  long  time  they  were  at  me  to  take  a  big 
block  of  treasury  stock,  but  the  road  seemed  to 
me  in  bad  shape,  so  I  wouldn't  go  in.  Lately 
they've  reorganized  —  have  got  a  lot  of  new 
money  in  there  —  I  don't  know  whose,  but 
they've  let  me  alone.  There's  been  no  row, 
you  understand.  That  ain't  the  reason  they've 
tied  us  up,  but  I  haven't  known  much  about 
what  was  going  on  inside." 

"  Would  they  be  likely  to  tell  you  if  you 
asked?  I  mean  if  you  took  it  to  headquar- 
ters?" 

"  I  couldn't  get  any  more  out  of  them  than 
you  could  —  that  is,  not  by  asking." 

"  I  guess  I'll  go  look  'em  up  myself.  Where 
can  I  find  anybody  that  knows  anything?  " 

"  The  division  offices  are  at  Blake  City. 
That's  only  about  twenty  miles.  You  could 
save  time  by  talking  over  the  'phone." 

"  Not  me,"  said  Bannon.  "  In  a  case  like 
this  I  couldn't  express  myself  properly  unless 
I  saw  the  fellow  I  was  talking  to." 

Sloan  laughed.  "  I  guess  you're  right.-  But 
ril  call  up  the  division  superintendent  and  tell 
him  you're  coming.  Then  you'll  be  sure  of 
finding  him." 


Calumet  "K"  41 

Bannon  shook  his  head.  "  I'd  find  him  with 
his  Httle  speech  all  learned.  No,  I'll  take  my 
chances  on  his  being  there.  When's  the 
train?" 

"  Nine-forty-six." 

"  That  gives  me  fifteen  minutes.  Can  I 
make  it?" 

"  Not  afoot,  and  you  ain't  likely  to  catch  a 
car.  I'll  drive  you  down.  I've  got  the  fastest 
mare  in  Pottawatomie  County." 

The  fact  that  the  G.  &  M.  had  been  rescued 
from  its  poverty  and  was  about  to  be  "  de- 
veloped "  was  made  manifest  in  Blake  City  by 
the  modern  building  which  the  railroad  was 
erecting  on  the  main  street.  Eventually  the 
division  officials  were  to  be  installed  in  office 
suites  of  mahogany  veneer,  with  ground  glass 
doors  lettered  in  gold  leaf.  For  the  present, 
as  from  the  beginning,  they  occupied  an  upper 
floor  of  a  freight  warehouse.  Bannon  came 
in  about  eleven  o'clock,  looked  briefly  about, 
and  seeing  that  one  corner  was  partitioned  off 
into  a  private  office,  he  ducked  under  the  hand 
rail  intended  to  pen  up  ordinary  visitors,  and 
made  for  it.  A  telegraph  operator  just  outside 
the  door  asked  what  his  business  was,  but  he 


42  Calumet  "AT" 

answered  merely  that  it  was  with  the  superin- 
tendent, and  went  in. 

He  expected  rather  rough  work.  The  super- 
intendent of  a  railroad,  or  of  a  division,  has 
to  do  with  the  employees,  never  with  the  cus- 
tomers, and  his  professional  manner  is  not 
likely  to  be  distinguished  by  suavity.  So  he 
unconsciously  squared  his  shoulders  when  he 
said,  "  Fm  Bannon,  of  MacBride  &  Company." 

The  superintendent  dismissed  his  stenog- 
rapher, swept  with  his  arm  a  clear  space  on  the 
desk,  and  then  drummed  on  it  with  his  fingers, 
but  he  did  not  look  up  immediately.  When  he 
did,  it  was  with  an  expression  of  grave  con- 
cern. 

"  Mr.  Bannon,"  he  said,  "  Tm  mighty  sorry, 
ril  do  anything  I  can  for  you.  You  can  smoke 
ten  cent  cigars  on  me  from  now  till  Christmas, 
and  light  them  with  passes.    Anything -^ " 

"  If  you  feel  like  that,"  said  Bannon,  "  we 
can  fix  things  all  comfortable  in  three  minutes. 
All  I  want  is  cars." 

The  superintendent  shook  his  head. 
"  There's  where  you  stump  me,"  he  said.  "  I 
haven't  got  'em." 

"  Mr.  Superintendent,  that's  what  they  told 


Calumet  "^"  43 

me  in  Chicago,  and  that's  what  they  told  me 
at  Ledyard.  I  didn't  come  up  here  to  Blake 
City  to  be  told  the  same  thing  and  then  go  back 
home." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know  what  else  I  can  tell 
you.  That's  just  the  size  of  it.  I  hope  we'll 
be  able  to  fix  you  in  a  few  days,  but  we  can't 
promise  anything." 

Bannon  frowned,  and  after  an  expectant 
pause,  the  superintendent  went  on  talking 
vaguely  about  the  immense  rush  of  traffic. 
Finally  he  asked,  "  Why  do  you  think  we'd 
hold  you  up  if  we  had  the  cars?  " 

"  That's  what  I  came  here  to  find  out.  I 
think  you're  mistaken  about  not  having  them." 

The  superintendent  laughed.  "  You  can't 
expect  to  know  more  about  that  than  I  do. 
You  doubtless  understand  your  business,  but 
this  is  my  business.  If  you  can  tell  me  where 
the  cars  are,  you  can  have  them." 

"  Well,  as  you  say,  that's  your  business. 
But  I  can  tell  you.  There's  a  big  string  of 
empties  —  I  counted  fourteen  —  on  the  siding 
at  Victory." 

The  superintendent  looked  out  of  the  win- 
dow and  again  drummed  on  the  desk.    When 


44  Calumet  **K** 

he  spoke  again,  his  manner  was  more  what  one 
would  expect  from  a  division  superintendent. 
"  You  don't  know  anything  about  it.  When 
we  want  advice  how  to  run  our  road  we'll  ask 
you  for  it.  Victory  isn't  in  my  division  any- 
way." 

"  Then  wire  the  general  manager.  He 
ought  to  know  something  about  it." 

"  Wire  him  yourself,  if  you  like.  I  can't 
bother  about  it.  I'm  sorry  I  can't  do  anything, 
but  I  haven't  got  time." 

"  I  haven't  begun  sending  telegrams  yet. 
And  I  haven't  very  much  more  time  to  fool 
away.  I'd  like  to  have  you  find  out  if  the  Led- 
yard  Salt  and  Lumber  Company  can  have  those 
cars  that  are  on  the  siding  at  Victory." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  superintendent,  rising. 
At  the  door  he  turned  back  to  ask,  "  When 
was  it  you  saw  them  ?  " 

Bannon  decided  to  chance  it.  "Yesterday 
morning,"  he  said. 

The  superintendent  returned  presently,  and, 
turning  to  his  desk,  resumed  his  work.  A  few 
minutes  later  the  telegraph  operator  came  in 
and  told  him  that  the  cars  at  Victory  had  been 
loaded  with  iron  truss  work  the  night  before, 
and  had  gone  off  down  the  State. 


Calumet  "K"  45 

"  Just  too  late,  wasn't  I  ? "  said  Bannon. 
"  That's  hard  luck."  He  went  to  the  window 
and,  staring  out  into  the  yards,  began  tapping 
idly  with  his  pencil  on  the  glass.  The  office 
door  was  open,  and  when  he  paused  he  heard 
the  telegraph  instrument  just  without,  clicking 
out  a  message. 

"Anything  else  I  can  do  for  you?"  asked 
the  superintendent.  His  good  humor  was 
returning  at  the  sight  of  his  visitor's  per- 
plexity. 

"  I  wish  you'd  just  wire  the  general  manager 
once  more  and  ask  him  if  he  can't  possibly  let 
us  have  those  cars." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  other,  cheerfully.  He 
nodded  to  the  operator.  "  For  the  Ledyard 
Salt  and  Lumber  Company,"  he  said. 

Bannon  dropped  into  a  chair,  stretched  him- 
self, and  yawned.  "  I'm  sleepy,"  he  said ; 
"  haven't  had  any  sleep  in  three  weeks.  Lost 
thirty-two  pounds.  If  you  fellows  had  only 
got  that  cribbing  down  on  time,  I'd  be  having 
a  vacation " 

Another  yawn  interrupted  him.  The  tele- 
graph receiver  had  begun  giving  out  the  gen- 
eral manager's  answer. 


46  Calumet  **K" 

Tell-Ledyard-we-hope-to-have-cars-in- 
a-few-days- 

The  superintendent  looked  at  Bannon,  ex- 
pecting him  to  finish  his  sentence,  but  he  only 
yawned  again. 

obey-previous-instructions. — Do-not- 
give-Ledyard-cars-in-any-case- 

Bannon's  eyes  were  half  closed,  but  the 
superintendent  thought  he  was  turning  a  little 
toward  the  open  doorway. 

"  Do  you  feel  cold?  "  he  asked.  "  I'll  shut 
the  door." 

He  rose  quickly  and  started  toward  it,  but 
Bannon  was  there  before  him.  He  hesitated, 
his  hand  on  the  knob. 

"  Why  don't  you  shut  it  ? "  snapped  the 
superintendent. 

"  I  think  I'll  —  I  think  I'll  send  a  telegram." 

"  Here's  a  blank,  in  here.  Come  in."  But 
Bannon  had  slipped  out  and  was  standing 
beside  the  operator's  table.  From  the  door- 
way the  superintendent  saw  him  biting  his 
pencil  and  frowning  over  a  bit  of  paper.  The 
general  manager's  message  was  still  coming 
in. 


Calumet  "A""  47 

We-don't-help-put-up-any-grain-elevator- 
in-Chicago-these-days. 

As  the  last  click  sounded,  Bannon  handed  his 
message  to  the  operator.  "  Send  it  collect," 
he  said.  With  that  he  strode  away,  over  the 
hand  rail,  this  time,  and  down  the  stairs.  The 
operator  carried  the  message  to  the  superin- 
tendent. 

"  It  seems  to  be  for  you,"  he  said. 

The  superintendent  read  — 

Div.  Supt.  G.  &  M.,  Elake  City.  Tell  manager  it  takes 
better  man  than  him  to  tie  us  up. 

MacBride  &  Company. 

Bannon  had  nearly  an  hour  to  wait  for  the 
next  train  back  to  Ledyard,  but  it  was  not  time 
wasted,  for  as  he  paced  the  smoky  waiting 
room,  he  arrived  at  a  fairly  accurate  estimate 
of  the  meaning  of  the  general  manager's  mes- 
sage. 

It  was  simply  a  confirmaton  of  the  cautious 
prediction  he  had  made  to  Peterson  the  night 
before.  Why  should  any  one  want  to  hinder 
the  construction  of  an  elevator  in  Chicago 
"  these  days  "  except  to  prevent  its  use  for  the 
formal  delivery  of  grain  which  the  buyer  did 


48  Calumet  ''K** 

not  wish  delivered?  And  why  had  Page  & 
Company  suddenly  ordered  a  million  bushel 
annex?  Why  had  they  suddenly  become  anx- 
ious that  the  elevator  should  be  ready  to  receive 
grain  before  January  first,  unless  they  wished 
to  deliver  a  vast  amount  of  December  wheat? 
Before  Bannon's  train  came  in  he  understood 
it  all.  A  clique  of  speculators  had  decided 
to  corner  wheat,  an  enterprise  nearly  enough 
impossible  in  any  case,  but  stark  madness 
unless  they  had  many  millions  at  command. 
It  was  a  long  chance,  of  course,  but  after  all 
not  wonderful  that  some  one  in  their  num- 
ber was  a  power  in  the  reorganized  G. 
&M. 

Already  the  immense  amount  of  wheat  in 
Chicago  was  testing  the  capacity  of  the  regis- 
tered warehouses,  and  plainly,  if  the  Calumet 
K  should  be  delayed  long  enough,  it  might 
prevent  Page  &  Company  from  carrying  out 
their  contract  to  deliver  two  million  bushels  of 
the  grain,  even  though  it  were  actually  in  the 
cars  in  Chicago. 

Bannon  knew  much  of  Page  &  Company; 
that  dotted  all  over  the  vast  wheat  tracts  of 
Minnesota  and  Montana  were  their  little  re- 


Calumet  '*K''  49 

ceiving  elevators  where  they  bought  grain  of 
the  farmers ;  that  miles  of  wheat-laden  freight 
cars  were  already  lumbering  eastward  along 
the  railroad  lines  of  the  North.  He  had  a  touch 
of  imagination,  and  something  of  the  enor- 
mous momentum  of  that  Northern  wheat  took 
possession  of  him.  It  would  come  to  Chicago, 
and  he  must  be  ready  for  it.  It  would  be  ab- 
surd to  be  balked  by  the  refusal  of  a  little 
single-track  road  up  in  Michigan  to  carry  a 
pile  of  planks. 

He  paused  before  the  grated  window  of  the 
ticket  and  telegraph  office  and  asked  for  a  map. 
He  studied  it  attentively  for  a  while;  then  he 
sent  a  telegram:  — 

MacBride  &  Company,  Minneapolis:  G.  &  M.  R.  R. 
wants  to  tie  us  up.  Will  not  furnish  cars  to  carry  our 
cribbing.  Can't  get  it  elsewhere  inside  of  three  weeks. 
Find  out  if  Page  will  O.  K.  any  bill  of  extras  I  send  in  for 
bringing  it  down.  If  so,  can  they  have  one  or  more  steam 
barges  at  Manistogee  within  forty-eight  hours  ?  Wire  Led- 
yard  Hotel.  C.  H.  Bannon. 

It  was  an  hour's  ride  back  to  Ledyard.  He 
went  to  the  hotel  and  persuaded  the  head 
waiter  to  give  him  something  to  eat,  although 
it  was  long  after  the  dinner  hour.    As  he  left 


50  Calumet  "A"" 

the  dining  room,  the  clerk  handed  him  two 
telegrams.    One  read :  — 

Get  cribbing  down.    Page  pays  the  freight. 

Brown. 

The  other :  — 

Steam  barge  Demosthenes  leaves  Milwaukee  to-night 
for  Manistogee.  Page  &  Co. 


CHAPTER  IV 

As  Bannon  was  paying  for  his  dinner,  he 
asked  the  clerk  what  sort  of  a  place  Manistogee 
was.  The  clerk  replied  that  he  had  never  been 
there,  but  that  he  understood  it  was  quite  a 
lively  town. 

"Good  road  over  there?" 

"  Pretty  fair.'* 

"  That  means  you  can  get  through  if  you're 
lucky." 

The  clerk  smiled.  "  It  won't  be  so  bad  to- 
day. You  see  we've  been  getting  a  good  deal 
of  rain.  That  packs  down  the  sand.  You 
ought  to  get  there  all  right.  Were  you  think- 
ing of  driving  over  ?  " 

"  That's  the  only  way  to  go,  is  it?  Well,  I'll 
see.    Maybe  a  little  later.    How  far  is  it  ?  " 

"  The  farmers  call  it  eighteen  miles." 

Bannon  nodded  his  thanks  and  went  back  to 
Sloan's  office. 

5« 


52 


Calumet  "i^T" 


"  Well,  it  didn't  take  you  long,"  said  the 
magnate.  "  Find  out  what  was  the  matter 
with 'em?" 


HE  .  ,  ,  CURSED  THE  WHOLE  G.   &   M.   SYSTEM,   FROM  THE 
TIES   UP 

He  enjoyed  his  well-earned  reputation  for 
choler,  and  as  Bannon  told  him  what  he  had 
discovered  that  morning,  the  old  man  paced 
the  room  in  a  regular  beat,  pausing  every  time 
he  came  to  a  certain  tempting  bit  of  blank  wall 
to  deal  it  a  thump  with  his  big  fist.    When  the 


Calumet  ''K"  53 

whole  situation  was  made  clear  to  him,  he 
stopped  walking  and  cursed  the  whole  G.  &  M. 
system,  from  the  ties  up.  "  I'll  make  'em  smart 
for  that,"  he  said.  "  They  haul  those  planks 
whether  they  want  to  or  not.  You  hear  me 
say  it.  There's  a  law  that  covers  a  case  like 
that.  I'll  prosecute  'em.  They'll  see  whether 
J.  B.  Sloan  is  a  safe  kind  of  man  to  monkey 
with.  Why,  man,"  he  added,  turning  sharply 
to  Bannon,  "why  don't  you  get  mad?  You 
don't  seem  to  care  —  no  more  than  the  angel 
Gabriel." 

"  I  don't  care  a  damn  for  the  G.  &  M.  I 
want  the  cribbing." 

"  Don't  you  worry.  I'll  have  the  law  on 
those  fellows " 

"  And  I'd  get  the  stuff  about  five  years  from 
now,  when  I  was  likely  enough  dead." 

"  What's  the  best  way  to  get  it,  according  to 
your  idea?  " 

"  Take  it  over  to  Manistogee  in  wagons  and 
then  down  by  barges." 

Sloan  snorted.  "  You'd  stand  a  chance  to 
get  some  of  it  by  Fourth  of  July  that  way." 

"  Do  you  want  to  bet  on  that  proposition  ?  " 

Sloan  made  no  reply.     He  had  allowed  his 


54  Calumet  ''K'' 

wrath  to  boil  for  a  few  minutes  merely  as  a 
luxury.  Now  he  was  thinking  seriously  of  the 
scheme.  "  It  sounds  like  moonshine,"  he  said 
at  last,  "  but  I  don't  know  as  it  is.  How  are 
you  going  to  get  your  barges  ?  " 

"  I've  got  one  already.  It  leaves  Milwaukee 
to-night." 

Sloan  looked  him  over.  "  I  wish  you  were 
out  of  a  job,"  he  said.  Then  abruptly  he 
went  on :  "  Where  are  your  wagons  coming 
from?  You  haven't  got  them  all  lined  up 
in  the  yard  now,  have  you  ?  It'll  take  a  lot 
of  them." 

"  I  know  it.  Well,  we'll  get  all  there  are  in 
Ledyard.  There's  a  beginning.  And  the 
farmers  round  here  ain't  so  very  fond  of  the 
G.  &  M.,  are  they?  Don't  they  think  the  rail- 
road discriminates  against  them  —  and  ain't 
they  right  about  it  ?  I  never  saw  a  farmer  yet 
that  wouldn't  grab  a  chance  to  get  even  with 
a  railroad." 

"  That's  about  right,  in  this  part  of  the 
country,  anyway." 

"  You  get  up  a  regular  circus  poster  saying 
what  you  think  of  the  G.  &  M.,  and  call  on  the 
farmers  to  hitch  up  and  drive  to  your  lumber 


Calumet  "i^"  55 

yard.  We'll  stick  that  up  at  every  crossroads 
between  here  and  Manistogee." 

Sloan  was  scribbling  on  a  memorandum  pad 
before  Bannon  had  finished  speaking.  He 
made  a  false  start  or  two,  but  presently  got 
something  that  seemed  to  please  him.  He  rang 
for  his  office  boy,  and  told  him  to  take  it  to  the 
Eagle  office. 

"  It's  got  to  be  done  in  an  hour,"  said  Ban- 
non. "  That's  when  the  procession  moves," 
he  added,  as  Sloan  looked  at  him  question- 
ingly. 

The  other  nodded.  "In  an  hour,"  he  said 
to  the  office  boy.  "  What  are  you  going  to  do 
in  an  hour?  "  he  asked,  as  the  boy  went  out. 

"  Why,  it'll  be  four  o'clock  then,  and  we 
ought  to  start  for  Manistogee  as  early  as  we 
can." 

"We!  Well,  I  should  think  not!"  said 
Sloan. 

"  YouVe  going  to  drive  me  over  with  that 
fast  mare  of  yours,  aren't  you  ?  " 

Sloan  laughed.    "  Look  at  it  rain  out  there." 

"  Best  thing  in  the  world  for  a  sand  road," 
said  Bannon.  "  And  we'll  wash,  I  guess. 
Both  been  wet  before." 


56  Calumet  "i^" 

"  But  if  s  twenty-five  miles  over  there  — 
twenty-five  to  thirty." 

Bannon  looked  at  his  watch.  "  We  ought 
to  get  there  by  ten  o'clock,  I  should  think." 

"  Ten  o'clock !  What  do  you  think  she  is  — 
a  sawhorse!  She  never  took  more  than  two 
hours  to  Manistogee  in  her  life." 

The  corners  of  Bannon' s  mouth  twitched 
expressively.  Sloan  laughed  again.  "  I  guess 
it's  up  to  me  this  time,"  he  said. 

Before  they  started  Sloan  telephoned  to  the 
Eagle  office  to  tell  them  to  print  a  full-sized 
reproduction  of  his  poster  on  the  front  page  of 
the  Ledyard  Evening  Eagle. 

*'  Crowd  their  news  a  little,  won't  it?  "  Ban- 
non asked. 

Sloan  shook  his  head.  "  That  helps  'em  out 
in  great  shape." 

The  Eagle  did  not  keep  them  waiting.  The 
moment  Sloan  pulled  up  his  impatient  mare 
before  the  ofiice  door,  the  editor  ran  out,  bare- 
headed, in  the  rain,  with  the  posters. 

"  They're  pretty  wet  yet,"  he  said. 

"  That's  all  right.  I  only  want  a  handful. 
Send  the  others  to  my  ofifice.  They  know  what 
to  do  with  'em." 


Cahimet  "K**  S7 

"  I  was  glad  to  print  them,"  the  editor  went 
on  deferentially.  "  You  have  expressed  our 
opinion  of  the  G.  &  M.  exactly." 

"  Guess  I  did,"  said  Sloan  as  they  drove 
away.  "  The  reorganized  G.  &  M.  decided 
they  didn't  want  to  carry  him  around  the 
country  on  a  pass." 

Bannon  pulled  out  one  of  the  sheets  and 
opened  it  on  his  knee.  He  whistled  as  he  read 
the  first  sentence,  and  swore  appreciatively  over 
the  next.  When  he  had  finished,  he  buttoned 
the  waterproof  apron  and  rubbed  his  wet  hands 
over  his  knees.  "  It's  grand,"  he  said.  "  I 
never  saw  anything  like  it." 

Sloan  spoke  to  the  mare.  He  had  held  her 
back  as  they  jolted  over  the  worn  pavement 
of  cedar  blocks,  but  now  they  had  reached  the 
city  limits  and  were  starting  out  upon  the  rain- 
beaten  sand.  She  was  a  tall,  clean-limbed  sor- 
rel, a  Kentucky-bred  Morgan,  and  as  she 
settled  into  her  stride,  Bannon  watched  her 
admiringly.  Her  wet  flanks  had  the  dull  sheen 
of  bronze. 

"  Don't  tell  me,"  said  Sloan,  "  that  Michigan 
roads  are  no  good  for  driving.  You  never  had 
anything  finer  than  this  in  your  life."     They 


58  Calumet  "AT" 

sped  along  as  on  velvet,  noiselessly  save  when 
their  wheels  sliced  through  standing  pools  of 
water.  "  She  can  keep  this  up  till  further 
notice,  I  suppose,"  said  Bannon.  Sloan  nod- 
ded. 

Soon  they  reached  the  first  crossroad.  There 
was  a  general  store  at  one  corner,  and,  oppo- 
site, a  blacksmith's  shop.  Sloan  pulled  up  and 
Bannon  sprang  out  with  a  hammer,  a  mouthful 
of  tacks,  and  three  or  four  of  the  posters.  He 
put  them  up  on  the  sheltered  side  of  conspicu- 
ous trees,  left  one  with  the  storekeeper,  and 
another  with  the  smith.     Then  they  drove  on. 

They  made  no  pretence  at  conversation. 
Bannon  seemed  asleep  save  that  he  was  always 
ready  with  his  hammer  and  his  posters  when- 
ever Sloan  halted  the  mare.  The  west  wind 
freshened  as  the  evening  came  on  and  dashed 
fine,  sleety  rain  into  their  faces.  Bannon  hud- 
dled his  wet  coat  closer  about  him.  Sloan  put 
the  reins  between  his  knees  and  pulled  on  a 
pair  of  heavy  gloves. 

It  had  been  dark  for  half  an  hour  —  Bannon 
could  hardly  distinguish  the  moving  figure  of 
the  mare  —  when  Sloan  spoke  to  her  and  drew 
her  to  a  walk.     Bannon  reached  for  his  ham- 


HE  POSTED   THEM   ON  THE   SHELTERED    SIDE  OF  CONSPICUOUS 
TREES 


Calumet  "AT"  59 

mer.  "  No  crossroad  here,"  said  Sloan. 
"  Bridge  out  of  repair.  We've  got  to  fetch 
a  circle  here  up  to  where  she  can  wade  it.'' 

"  Hold  on,"  said  Bannon  sharply.  "  Let  me 
get  out." 

"  Don't  be  scared.    We'll  make  it  all  right." 

"  We !  Yes,  but  will  fifteen  hundred  feet  of 
lumber  make  it?    I  want  to  take  a  look." 

He  splashed  forward  in  the  dark,  but  soon 
returned.  "  It's  nothing  that  can't  be  fixed  in 
two  hours.    Where's  the  nearest  farmhouse?  " 

"  Fifty  rods  up  the  road  to  your  right." 

Again  Bannon  disappeared.  Presently 
Sloan  heard  the  deep  challenge  of  a  big  dog. 
He  backed  the  buggy  around  up  against  the 
wind  so  that  he  could  have  shelter  while  he 
waited.  Then  he  pulled  a  spare  blanket  from 
under  the  seat  and  threw  it  over  the  mare.  At 
the  end  of  twenty  minutes,  he  saw  a  lantern 
bobbing  toward  him. 

The  big  farmer  who  accompanied  Bannon 
held  the  lantern  high  and  looked  over  the  mare. 
*'  It's  her  all  right,"  he  said.  Then  he  turned 
so  that  the  light  shone  full  in  Sloan's  face. 
**  Good  evening,  Mr.  Sloan,"  he  said.  "  You'll 
excuse  me,  but  is  what  this  gentleman  tells  me 
all  straight?" 


6o  Calumet  "A"" 

**  Guess  it  is/*  Sloan  smiled.  "  I'd  bank  on 
him  myself." 

The  farmer  nodded  with  satisfaction.  "  All 
right  then,  Mr.  What's-your-name.  I'll  have  it 
done  for  you." 

Sloan  asked  no  questions  until  they  had 
forded  the  stream  and  were  back  on  the  road. 
Then  he  inquired,  "  What's  he  going  to  do?  " 

"  Mend  the  bridge.  I  told  him  it  had  to  be 
done  to-night.  Said  he  couldn't.  Hadn't  any 
lumber.  Couldn't  think  of  it.  I  told  him  to 
pull  down  the  lee  side  of  his  house  if  necessary ; 
said  you'd  give  him  the  lumber  to  build  an  an- 
nex on  it." 

''What!" 

"  Oh,  it's  all  right.  Send  the  bill  to  Mac- 
Bride.  I  knew  your  name  would  go  down  and 
mine  wouldn't." 

The  delay  had  proved  costly,  and  it  was  half- 
past  seven  before  they  reached  the  Manistogee 
hotel. 

"  Now,"  said  Bannon,  "  we'll  have  time  to 
rub  down  the  mare  and  feed  her  before  I'm 
ready  to  go  back." 

Sloan  stared  at  him  for  a  moment  in  un- 
feigned amazement.    Then  slowly  he  shook  his 


Calumet  ''K*'  6i 

head.  "  All  right,  Fm  no  quitter.  But  I  will 
say  that  Fm  glad  you  ain't  coming  to  Ledyard 
to  live." 

Bannon  left  the  supper  table  before  Sloan 
had  finished,  and  was  gone  nearly  an  hour. 
"  It's  all  fixed  up,"  he  said  when  he  returned. 
"  I've  cinched  the  wharf." 

They  started  back  as  they  had  come,  in 
silence,  Bannon  crowding  as  low  as  possible  in 
his  ulster,  dozing.  But  he  roused  when  the 
mare,  of  her  own  accord,  left  the  road  at  the 
detour  for  the  ford. 

"You  don't  need  to  do  that,"  he  said.  "  The 
bridge  is  fixed."  So  they  drove  straight 
across,  the  mare  feeling  her  way  cautiously 
over  the  new-laid  planks. 

The  clouds  were  thinning,  so  that  there  was 
a  little  light,  and  Bannon  leaned  forward  and 
looked  about. 

"  How  did  you  get  hold  of  the  message  from 
the  general  manager  ?  "  asked  Sloan  abruptly. 

"  Heard  it.  I  can  read  Morse  signals  like 
print.    Used  to  work  for  the  Grand  Trunk." 

"What  doing?" 

"  Boss  of  a  wrecking  gang."  Bannon 
paused.    Presently  he  went  on. 


62  Calumet  "^" 

"  Yes,  there  was  two  years  when  I  slept  with 
my  boots  on.  Didn't  know  a  quiet  minute. 
Never  could  tell  what  I  was  going  to  get  up 
against.  I  never  saw  two  wrecks  that  were 
anything  alike.  There  was  a  junction  about 
fifty  miles  down  the  road  where  they  used  to 
have  collisions  regular ;  but  they  were  all  differ- 
ent. I  couldn't  figure  out  what  I  was  going  to 
do  till  I  was  on  the  ground,  and  then  I  didn't 
have  time  to.  My  only  order  was,  *  Clear  the 
r6ad  —  and  be  damn  quick  about  it.*  What  I 
said  went.  I've  set  fire  to  fifty  thousand  dol- 
lars' worth  of  mixed  freight  just  to  get  it  out 
of  the  way  —  and  they  never  kicked.  That 
ain't  the  kind  of  life  for  me,  though.  No,  nor 
this  ain't,  either.  I  want  to  be  quiet.  I've 
never  had  a  chance  yet,  and  I've  been  looking 
for  it  ever  since  I  was  twelve  years  old.  I'd 
like  to  get  a  little  farm  and  live  on  it  all  by 
myself.  I'd  raise  garden  truck,  cabbages,  and 
such,  and  I'd  take  piano  lessons." 

"Is  that  why  you  quit  the  Grand  Trunk? 
So  that  you  could  take  piano  lessons  ?  "  Sloan 
laughed  as  he  asked  the  question,  but  Bannon 
replied  seriously :  — 

"  Why,  not  exactly.    There  was  a  little  f ric- 


Calumet  ''K*'  63 

tion  between  me  and  the  master  mechanic,  so 
I  resigned.  I  didn't  exactly  resign,  either,"  he 
added  a  moment  later.  "  I  wired  the  superin- 
tendent to  go  to  hell.  It  came  to  the  same 
thing." 

"  I  worked  for  a  railroad  once  myself,"  said 
Sloan.  "  Was  a  hostler  in  the  roundhouse  at 
Syracuse,  New  York.  I  never  worked  up  any 
higher  than  that.  I  had  ambitions  to  be  pro- 
moted to  the  presidency,  but  it  didn't  seem  very 
likely,  so  I  gave  it  up  and  came  West." 

"  You  made  a  good  thing  of  it.  You  seem 
to  own  most  all  Pottawatomie  County." 

"  Pretty  much." 

"  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  how  to  do  it.  I 
have  worked  like  an  all-the-year-round  blast 
furnace  ever  since  I  could  creep,  and  never 
slighted  a  job  yet,  but  here  I  am  —  can't  call 
my  soul  my  own.  I  have  saved  fifteen  thousand 
dollars,  but  that  ain't  enough  to  stop  with.  I 
don't  see  why  I  don't  own  a  county  too." 

"  There's  some  luck  about  it.  And  then  I 
don't  believe  you  look  very  sharp  for  oppor- 
tunities. I  suppose  you  are  too  busy.  You've 
got  a  chance  this  minute  to  turn  your  fifteen 
thousand  to  fifty ;  maybe     lot  more." 


64  Calumet  "A"' 

"  Fm  afraid  Fm  too  thick-headed  to  see  it" 

"  Why,  what  you  found  out  this  morning 
was  the  straightest  kind  of  a  straight  tip  on  the 
wheat  market  for  the  next  two  months.  A  big 
elevator  like  yours  will  be  almost  decisive. 
The  thing's  right  in  your  own  hands.  If  Page 
&  Company  can't  make  that  delivery,  why, 
fellows  who  buy  wheat  now  are  going  to  make 
money." 

"I  see,"  said  Bannon,  quickly.  "All  I'd 
have  to  do  would  be  to  buy  all  the  wheat  I  could 
get  trusted  for  and  then  hold  back  the  job  a 
little.  And  while  I  was  at  it,  I  might  just  as 
well  make  a  clean  job  and  walk  off  with  the  pay 
roll."  He  laughed.  "I'd  look  pretty,  wouldn't 
I,  going  to  old  MacBride  with  my  tail  be- 
tween my  legs,  telling  him  that  the  job  was  too 
much  for  me  and  I  couldn't  get  it  done  on  time. 
He'd  look  me  over  and  say :  '  Bannon,  you're  a 
liar.  You've  never  had  to  lay  down  yet,  and 
you  don't  now.  Go  back  and  get  that  job  done 
before  New  Year's  or  I'll  shoot  you.'  " 

"You  don't  want  to  get  rich,  that's  the 
trouble  with  you,"  said  Sloan,  and  he  said  it 
almost  enviously. 

Bannon  rode  to  Manistogee  on  the  first 


Calumet  "AT"  6$ 

wagon.  The  barge  was  there,  so  the  work  of 
loading  the  cribbing  into  her  began  at  once. 
There  were  numerous  interruptions  at  first,  but 
later  in  the  day  the  stream  of  wagons  became 
almost  continuous.  Farmers  living  on  other 
than  the  Manistogee  roads  came  into  Ledyard 
and  hurried  back  to  tell  their  neighbors  of  the 
chance  to  get  ahead  of  the  railroad  for  once. 
Dennis,  who  was  in  charge  at  the  yard,  had 
hard  work  to  keep  up  with  the  supply  of  empty 
wagons. 

Sloan  disappeared  early  in  the  morning,  but 
at  five  o'clock  Bannon  had  a  telephone  message 
from  him.  "  Fm  here  at  Blake  City,"  he  said, 
"  raising  hell.  The  general  manager  gets  here 
at  nine  o'clock  to-night  to  talk  with  me. 
They're  feeling  nervous  about  your  getting 
that  message.  I  think  you'd  better  come  up 
here  and  talk  to  him." 

So  a  little  after  nine  that  night  the  three 
men,  Sloan,  Bannon,  and  the  manager,  sat  down 
to  talk  it  over.  And  the  fact  that  in  the  first 
place  an  attempt  to  boycott  could  be  proved, 
and  in  the  second  that  Page  &  Company  were 
getting  what  they  wanted  anyway  —  while 
they  talked  a  long  procession  of  cribbing  was 


66  Calumet  "iST" 

creaking  along  by  lantern  light  to  Manistogee 
—  finally  convinced  the  manager  that  the  time 
had  come  to  yield  as  gracefully  as  possible. 

"  He  means  it  this  time/'  said  Sloan,  when 
he  and  Bannon  were  left  alone  at  the  Blake 
City  hotel  to  talk  things  over. 

"  Yes,  I  think  he  does.  If  he  don't.  Til  come 
up  here  again  and  have  a  short  session  with 
him." 


CHAPTER  V 


OFHC^ 

\ 

ANNE^ 



■\^ 

ELEVATOR. 

h 

1 

,,,,„„                                   .1 

l_   .        --^-^ — 1 

C&SCRR    : 

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^ 

CoS  C  kI 

^ — w — ^ 

=1 

3 V\ i 

1 

— % 

|5P0\m»l6  HOUSE. 

— 

>2,1VE:I2. 

It  was  nearly  five  o'clock  when  Bannon  ap- 
peared at  the  elevator  on  Thursday.  He  at 
once  sought  Peterson. 

"  Well,  what  luck  did  you  have?  "  he  asked. 
"  Did  you  get  my  message?  " 

"  Your  message  ?  Oh,  sure.  You  said  the 
cribbing  was  coming  down  by  boat.  I  don't 
see  how,  though.    Ledyard  ain't  on  the  lake." 

"  Well,  it's  coming  just  the  same,  two  hun- 
67 


68  Calumet  "AT" 

dred  thousand  feet  of  it.  What  have  you  done 
about  it?'' 

"Oh,  we'll  be  ready  for  it,  soon's  it  gets 
here." 

They  were  standing  at  the  north  side  of  the 
.'elevator  near  the  paling  fence  which  bounded 
the  C.  &  S.  C.  right  of  way.  Bannon  looked 
across  the  tracks  to  the  wharf ;  the  pile  of  tim- 
ber was  still  there. 

"  Did  you  have  any  trouble  with  the  rail- 
road when  you  took  your  stuff  across  for  the 
spouting  house?  "  he  asked. 

"  Not  much  of  any.  The  section  boss  came 
around  and  talked  a  little,  but  we  only  opened 
the  fence  in  one  place,  and  that  seemed  to  suit 
him." 

Bannon  was  looking  about,  calculating  with 
his  eye  the  space  that  was  available  for  the  in- 
coming lumber. 

"  How'd  you  manage  that  business,  any- 
way?" asked  Peterson. 

''What  business?" 

"  The  cribbing.  How'd  you  get  it  to  the 
lake?" 

"  Oh,  that  was  easy.    I  just  carried  it  off." 

"Yes,  you  did!" 


Calumet  "TsT"  69 

"  Look  here,  Pete,  that  timber  hasn't  got  any 
business  out  there  on  the  wharf.  We've  got 
to  have  that  room  for  the  cribbing." 

"  That's  all  right.  The  steamer  won't  get 
in  much  before  to-morrow  night,  will  it  ?  " 

"  We  aren't  doing  any  banking  on  that.  I've 
got  a  notion  that  the  Pages  aren't  sending  out 
any  six-mile-an-hour  scow  to  do  their  quick 
work.  That  timber's  got  to  come  over  here 
to-night.  May  as  well  put  it  where  the  car- 
penters can  get  right  at  it.  W^e'll  be  on  the 
cupola  before  long,  anyhow." 

"  But  it's  five  o'clock  already.  There's  the 
whistle." 

Bannon  waited  while  the  long  blast  sounded 
through  the  crisp  air.    Then  he  said :  — 

"  Offer  the  men  double  pay,  and  tell  them 
that  any  man  can  go  home  that  wants  to,  right 
now,  but  if  they  say  they'll  stay,  they've  got  to 
see  it  through." 

Already  the  laborers  were  hurrying  toward 
the  tool  house  in  a  long,  irregular  line.  Peter- 
son started  toward  the  office,  to  give  the  word 
to  the  men  before  they  could  hand  in  their  time 
checks. 

"Mr.  Bannon." 


70  Calumet  "^" 

The  foreman  turned;  Vogel  was  approach- 
ing. 

"  I  wanted  to  see  about  that  cribbing  bill. 
How  much  of  it's  coming  down  by  boat?  " 

"  Two  hundred  thousand.  You'd  better 
help  Peterson  get  that  timber  out  of  the  way. 
We're  holding  the  men." 

"  Yes,  I've  been  waiting  for  directions  about 
that.  We  can  put  a  big  gang  on  it,  and  snake 
it  across  in  no  time." 

"  You'll  have  to  open  up  the  fence  in  half  a 
dozen  places,  and  put  on  every  man  you've  got. 
There's  no  use  in  making  an  all-night  job  of 
it." 

"  Fm  afraid  we'll  have  trouble  with  the  rail- 
road." 

"  No,  we  won't.  If  they  kick,  you  send  them 
to  me.    Are  your  arc  lights  in  ?  " 

"  Yes,  all  but  one  or  two.  They  were  going 
to  finish  it  to-day,  but  they  ain't  very  spry 
about  it." 

"  Tell  you  what  you  do,  Max ;  you  call  them 
up  and  tell  them  we  want  a  man  to  come 
out  here  and  stay  for  a  while.  I  may  want  to 
move  the  lights  around  a  little.  And,  anyhow, 
they  may  as  well  clean  up  their  job  and  have  it 
done  with." 


Calumet  ''K''  7I 

He  was  starting  back  after  the  returning 
laborers  when  Max  said :  — 

"  Mr.  Bannon.'' 

"Hello?" 

"  I  heard  you  speaking  about  a  stenographer 
the  other  day." 

"Yes  —  what  about  it?  Haven't  you  got 
one  yet?" 

"  No,  but  I  know  of  one  that  could  do  the 
work  first-rate." 

"  I  want  a  good  one  —  he's  got  to  keep  time 
besides  doing  the  office  work." 

"  Yes,  I  thought  of  that.  I  don't  suppose 
she " 

"  She  ?    We  can't  have  any  shes  on  this  job." 

"Well,  it's  like  this,  Mr.  Bannon;  she's  an 
A  I  stenographer  and  bookkeeper;  and  as  for 
keeping  the  time,  why,  I'm  out  on  the  job  all 
day  anyhow,  and  I  reckon  I  could -take  care  of 
it  without  cutting  into  my  work." 

Bannon  looked  quizzically  down  at  him. 

"  You  don't  know  what  you're  talking 
about,"  he  said  slowly.  "  Just  look  around  at 
this  gang  of  men  —  you  know  the  likes  of 
them  as  well  as  I  do  —  and  then  talk  to  me 
about  bringing  a  girl  on  the  job/'    He  shook 


72  Calumet  "K'* 

his  head.    "  I  reckon  if  s  some  one  youVe  in- 
terested in." 

"  Yes,"  said  Max,  "  it's  my  sister." 

Max  evidently  did  not  intend  to  be  turned 
off.  As  he  stood  awaiting  a  reply  —  his  broad, 
flat  features,  his  long  arms  and  bow  legs  with 
their  huge  hands  and  feet,  his  fringe  of  brick- 
red  hair  cropping  out  behind  his  cap,  each  con- 
tributing to  the  general  appearance  of  utter 
homeliness  —  a  faint  smile  came  over  Bannon's 
face.  The  half-formed  thought  was  in  his 
mind,  "  If  she  looks  anything  like  that,  I  guess 
she's  safe."  He  was  silent  for  a  moment,  then 
he  said  abruptly :  —  ' 

"  When  can  she  start  ?  " 

"  Right  away." 

"  All  right.  We'll  try  it  for  a  day  or  so  and 
see  how  it  goes.  Tell  that  boy  in  the  office  that 
he  can  charge  his  time  up  to  Saturday  night, 
but  he  needn't  stay  around  any  longer." 

Max  hurried  away.  Group  after  group  of 
laborers,  peavies  or  cant-hooks  on  shoulders, 
were  moving  slowly  past  him  toward  the  wharf. 
It  was  already  nearly  dark,  and  the  arc  lights 
on  the  elevator  structure,  and  on  the  spouting 
house,  beyond  the  tracks,  were  flaring.     He 


Calumet  **K'*  73 

started  toward  the  wharf,  walking  behind  a 
score  of  the  laborers. 

From  the  east,  over  the  flats  and  marshes 
through  which  the  narrow,  sluggish  river 
wanders  to  Lake  Michigan,  came  the  hoarse 
whistle  of  a  steamer.  Bannon  turned  and 
looked.  His  view  was  blocked  by  some  freight 
cars  that  were  standing  on  the  C.  &  S.  C.  tracks 
at  some  distance  to  the  east.  He  ran  across  the 
tracks  and  out  on  the  wharf,  climbing  on  the 
timber  pile,  where  Peterson  and  his  gang  were 
rolling  down  the  big  sticks  with  cant-hooks. 
Not  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away  was  a  big 
steamer,  ploughing  slowly  up  the  river;  the 
cough  of  her  engines  and  the  swash  of  the 
churning  water  at  her  bow  and  stern  could  be 
plainly  heard.  Peterson  stopped  work  for  a 
moment,  and  joined  him. 

"  Well,"  Bannon  said,  "  we're  in  for  it  now. 
I  never  thought  they'd  make  such  time  as  this." 

"  She  can  lay  up  here  all  night  till  morning, 
I  guess." 

Bannon  was  thinking  hard. 

"  No,"  he  finally  said,  "  she  can't.  There 
ain't  any  use  of  wasting  all  day  to-morrow  un- 
loading that  cribbing  and  getting  it  across." 


74  Calumet  "JT" 

Peterson,  too,  was  thinking;  and  his  eye- 
brows were  coming  together  in  a  puzzled 
scowl. 

"  Oh,"  he  said,  "  you  mean  to  do  it  to- 
night?" 

"  Yes,  sir.  We  don't  get  any  sleep  till  every 
piece  of  that  cribbing  is  over  at  the  annex, 
ready  for  business  in  the  morning.  Your  sills 
are  laid  —  there's  nothing  in  the  way  of  start- 
ing those  bins  right  up.  This  ain't  an  all-night 
job  if  we  hustle  it." 

The  steamer  was  a  big  lake  barge,  with  high 
bow  and  stern,  and  a  long,  low,  cargo  deck 
amidships  that  was  piled  squarely  and  high 
with  yellow  two-inch  plank.  Her  crew  had 
clearly  been  impressed  with  the  need  of  hurry, 
for  long  before  she  could  be  worked  into  the 
wharf  they  had  rigged  the  two  hoists  and  got 
the  donkey  engines  into  running  order.  The 
captain  stood  by  the  rail  on  the  bridge,  smok-" 
ing  a  cigar,  his  hand  on  the  bell-pull. 

"  Where  do  you  want  it  ? "  he  called  to 
Bannon. 

"  Right  here,  where  Fm  standing.  You  can 
swing  your  bow  in  just  below  the  bridge 
there." 


Calumet  "K"  75 

The  captain  pulled  the  bell,  and  the  snub- 
nosed  craft,  stirring  up  a  whirl  of  mud  from 
the  bottom  of  the  river,  was  brought  alongside 
the  wharf. 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  put  it  ?  "  the  cap- 
tain called. 

"  Here.  We'll  clean  this  up  as  fast  as  we 
can.  I  want  that  cribbing  all  unloaded  to- 
night, sure." 

"  That  suits  me,"  said  the  captain.  "  I  don't 
want  to  be  held  up  here  —  ought  to  pull  out 
the  first  thing  in  the  morning." 

"  All  right,  you  can  do  it."  Bannon  turned 
to  Peterson  and  Vogel  (who  had  just  reached 
the  wharf).  "You  want  to  rush  this,  boys. 
I'll  go  over  and  see  to  the  piling." 

He  hurried  away,  pausing  at  the  office  long 
enough  to  find  the  man  sent  by  the  electric  light 
company,  and  to  set  him  at  work.  The  arc 
lamps  had  been  placed,  for  the  most  part,  where 
they  would  best  illuminate  the  annex  and  the 
cupola  of  the  elevator,  and  there  was  none  too 
much  light  on  the  tracks,  where  the  men  were 
stumbling  along,  hindered  rather  than  helped 
by  the  bright  light  before  them.  On  the  wharf 
it  was  less  dark,  for  the  lights  of  the  steamer 


'^6  Calumet  "AT" 

were  aided  by  two  on  the  spouting  house. 
Before  seven  o'clock  Bannon  had  succeeded  in 
getting  two  more  Hghts  up  on  poles,  one  on 
each  side  of  the  track. 

It  was  just  at  seven  that  the  timbers  sud- 
denly stopped  coming  in.  Bannon  looked 
around  impatiently.  The  six  men  that  had 
brought  in  the  last  stick  were  disappearing 
around  the  corner  of  the  great,  shadowy  struc- 
ture that  shut  off  Bannon's  view  of  the  wharf. 
He  waited  for  a  moment,  but  no  more  gangs 
appeared,  and  then  he  ran  around  the  elevator 
over  the  path  the  men  had  already  trampled. 
Within  the  circle  of  light  between  him  and  the 
C.  &  S.  C.  tracks  stood  scattered  groups  of  the 
laborers,  and  others  wandered  about  with  their 
hooks  over  their  shoulders.  There  was  a  larger, 
less  distinct  crowd  out  on  the  tracks.  Bannon 
ran  through  an  opening  in  the  fence,  and 
pushed  into  the  largest  group.  Here  Peterson 
and  Vogel  were  talking  to  a  stupid-looking 
man  with  a  sandy  mustache. 

"What  does  this  mean,  Pete?"  he  said 
shortly.  "  We  can't  be  held  up  this  way.  Get 
your  men  back  on  the  work." 

"  No,  he  won't,"  said  the  third  man. 
"  You  can't  go  on  with  this  work." 


Calumet  ''K''  77 

Bannon  sharply  looked  the  man  over.  There 
was  in  his  manner  a  dogged  authority. 

"Who  are  you?"  Bannon  asked.  "Who 
do  you  represent  ?  " 

"  I  represent  the  C.  &  S.  C.  railroad,  and  I 
tell  you  this  work  stops  right  here." 

"Why?" 

The  man  waved  his  arm  toward  the  fence. 

"  You  can't  do  that  sort  of  business." 

"What  sort?" 

"  You  look  at  that  fence  and  then  talk  to  me 
about  what  sort." 

"What's  the  matter  with  the  fence?" 

"  What's  the  matter  with  it !  There  ain't 
more'n  a  rod  of  it  left,  that's  what." 

Bannon's  scowl  relaxed. 

"  Oh,"  he  said,  "  I  see.  You're  the  section 
boss,  ain't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes."  ' 

"  That's  all  right  then.  Come  over  here  and 
I'll  show  you  how  we've  got  things  fixed." 

He  walked  across  the  track,  followed  by  the 
section  boss  and  Pete,  and  pointed  out  the  dis- 
placed sections  of  the  fence,  each  of  which  had 
been  carefully  placed  at  one  side. 

"  We'll  have,  it  all  up  all  right  before  morn- 
ing," he  said. 


yZ  Calumet  "K" 

The  man  was  running  his  fingers  up  under 
his  cap. 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  that,"  he  re- 
plied sullenly.  "  I've  got  my  orders.  We 
didn't  make  any  kick  when  you  opened  up  in 
one  place,  but  we  can't  stand  for  all  this." 

He  was  not  speaking  firmly,  and  Bannon, 
watching  him  closely,  jumped  at  the  conclusion 
that  his  orders  were  not  very  definite.  Prob- 
ably his  superintendent  had  instructed  him  to 
keep  a  close  eye  on  the  work,  and  perhaps  to 
grant  no  privileges.  Bannon  wished  he  knew 
more  about  the  understanding  between  the 
railroad  and  MacBride  &  Company.  He  felt 
sure,  however,  that  an  understanding  did 
exist  or  he  would  not  have  been  told  to  go 
ahead. 

"  That's  all  right,"  he  said,  with  an  air  of 
easy  authority.  "  We've  got  to  be  working 
over  your  tracks  for  the  next  two  months.  It's 
as  much  to  our  interest  as  it  is  to  yours  to  be 
careful,  and  I  guess  we  can  pull  together. 
We've  got  an  agreement  with  your  general 
manager,  and  that's  what  goes."  He  turned 
away,  but  paused  and  added,  "  I'll  see  that  you 
don't  have  any  reason  to  complain." 


Calumet  ''K"  79 

The  section  boss  looked  about  with  an  un- 
certain air  at  the  crowd  of  waiting  men. 

"  Don't  go  too  fast  there "  he  began. 

"  Look  here,"  said  Bannon,  abruptly. 
"  We'll  sit  right  down  here  and  send  a  mes- 
sage to  the  general  manager.  That's  the  quick- 
est way  to  settle  it  —  tell  him  that  we're  car- 
rying out  timber  across  the  tracks  and  you've 
stopped  us." 

It  was  a  bluff,  but  Bannon  knew  his  man. 

"  Now,  how  about  this  ?  "  was  the  reply. 
"  How  long  will  it  take  you  ?  " 

"  Till  some  time  before  daylight."  Bannon 
was  feeling  for  his  pencil. 

"  You  see  that  the  fence  goes  back,  will 
you?  We  ain't  taking  any  chances,  you  un- 
derstand." 

Bannon  nodded. 

"All  right,  Max,"  he  shouted.  "Get  to 
work  there.  And  look  here.  Max,"  in  a  stern 
voice,  "  I  expect  you  to  see  that  the  road  is  not 
blocked  or  delayed  in  any  way.  That's  your 
business  now,  mind."  He  turned  to  the  boss 
as  the  men  hurried  past  to  the  wharf.  "  I  used 
to  be  a  railroad  man  myself  —  chief  wrecker 
on    the    Grand    Trunk  —  and    I    guess    we 


8o  Calumet  "AT" 

won't  have  any  trouble  understanding  each 
other." 

Again  the  six  long  lines  of  men  were  creep- 
ing from  the  brightly  lighted  wharf  across  the 
shadowy  tracks  and  around  the  end  of  the  ele- 
vator. Bannon  had  held  the  electric  light  man 
within  call,  and  now  set  him  at  work  moving 
two  other  arc  lamps  to  a  position  where  they 
made  the  ground  about  the  growing  piles  of 
timber  nearly  as  light  as  day.  Through  the 
night  air  he  could  hear  the  thumping  of  the 
planks  on  the  wharf.  Faintly  over  this  sound 
came  the  shouting  of  men  and  the  tramp  and 
shuffle  of  feet.  And  at  intervals  a  train  would 
rumble  in  the  distance,  slowly  coming  nearer, 
until  with  a  roar  that  swallowed  all  the  other 
noises  it  was  past.  The  arc  lamps  glowed  and 
buzzed  over  the  heads  of  the  sweating,  grunt- 
ing men,  as  they  came  along  the  path,  gang 
after  gang,  lifting  an  end  of  a  heavy  stick  to 
the  level  of  the  steadily  rising  pile,  and  sliding 
it  home. 

Bannon  knew  from  long  experience  how  to 
pile  the  different  sizes  so  that  each  would  be 
ready  at  the  hands  of  the  carpenters  when  the 
morning  whistle  should  blow.     He  was  all 


Calumet  *'K"  8l 

about  the  work,  giving  a  hand  here,  an  order 
there,  always  good-humored,  though' brusque, 
and  always  inspiring  the  men  with  the  sight 
of  his  own  activity. 

Toward  the  middle  of  the  evening  Vogel 
came  up  from  the  wharf  with  a  question.  As 
he  was  about  to  return,  Bannon,  who  had  been 
turning  over  in  his  mind  the  incident  of  the 
section  boss,  said :  — 

"  Wait  a  minute,  Max.  What  about  this 
railroad  business  —  have  they  bothered  you 
much  before  now?  " 

"Not  very  much,  only  in  little  ways.  I  guess 
it's  just  this  section  boss  that  does  it  on  his  own 
hook.  He's  a  sort  of  a  fool,  you  know,  and 
he's  got  it  into  his  head  that  we're  trying  to  do 
him  some  way." 

Bannon  put  his  hands  into  his  pockets,  and 
studied  the  checkered  pattern  in  the  ground 
shadow  of  the  nearest  arc  lamp.  Then  he 
slowly  shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  that  ain't  it.  He's  too  big 
a  fool  to  do  much  on  his  own  hook.  He's  act- 
ing on  orders  of  some  sort,  and  that's  just  what 
I  don't  understand.  As  a  general  thing  a  rail- 
road's mighty  white  to  an  elevator.    Come  to 


82  Calumet  "A'" 

think  of  it,  they  said  something  about  it  up  at 
the  office,"  —  he  was  apparently  speaking  to 
himself,  and  Max  quietly  waited,  —  "  Brown 
said  something  about  the  C.  &  S.  C.  having  got 
in  the  way  a  little  down  here,  but  I  didn't  think 
much  about  it  at  the  time." 

"  What  could  they  do?  "  Max  asked. 

"  A  lot,  if  they  wanted  to.  But  that  ain*t 
what's  bothering  me.  They  haven't  any  con- 
nection with  the  G.  &  M.,  have  they  ?  " 

"  No  "  —  Max  shook  his  head  —  "  no,  not 
that  I  know  of." 

"  Well,  it's  funny,  that's  all.  The  man  be- 
hind those  orders  that  the  section  boss  talks 
about  is  the  general  manager;  and  it's  my 
notion  that  we're  likely  to  hear  from  him 
again.  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is.  Somebody  —  I 
don't  know  who,  but  somebody  —  is  mighty 
eager  to  keep  this  house  from  being  finished 
by  the  first  of  January.  After  this  I  wish  you'd 
keep  your  eyes  open  for  this  section  boss. 
Have  you  had  any  trouble  with  the  men  ?  " 

"  No,  only  that  clerk  that  we  laid  off  to-day, 
he  'lowed  he  was  going  to  make  trouble.  I 
didn't  say  anything  about  it,  because  they 
always  talk  like  that." 


Calumet  "TsT"  83 

"  Yes,  I  know.    What's  his  name?  " 

"Briggs." 

"  I  guess  he  can't  hurt  us  any." 

Bannon  turned  back  to  his  work ;  and  Vogel 
disappeared  in  the  shadows  along  the  path. 

Nine  o'clock  came,  and  the  timber  was  still 
coming  in.  The  men  were  growing  tired  and 
surly  from  the  merciless  strain  of  carrying  the 
long,  heavy  sticks.  The  night  was  raw  and 
chill.  Bannon  felt  it  as  he  stood  directing  the 
work,  and  he  kept  his  hands  in  his  pockets,  and 
wished  he  had  worn  his  overcoat ;  but  the  labor- 
ers, barearmed  and  bareheaded,  clad  only  in 
overalls  or  in  thin  trousers  and  cotton  shirts, 
were  shaking  sweat  from  their  eyes,  and  steal- 
ing moments  between  trips  to  stand  where  the 
keen  lake  breeze  could  cool  them.  Another 
half-hour  or  so  should  see  the  last  stick  on  the 
piles,  and  Bannon  had  about  decided  to  go  over 
to  the  office  when  he  saw  Vogel  moving  among 
the  men,  marking  their  time  in  his  book. 

"Here, Max,"  he  called,  adding,  when  Vogel 
had  reached  his  side :  "  Just  keep  an  eye  on 
this,  will  you?  I'll  be  at  the  office.  Keep 
things  going  just  as  they  are." 

There  was  a  light  in  the  office.     Bannon 


84  Calumet  **K** 

stepped  into  the  doorway,  and,  with  a  sup- 
pressed word  of  impatience,  stood  looking  at 
the  scene  within.  The  desk  that  Peterson  had 
suppHed  for  the  use  of  his  clerk  was  breast- 
high  from  the  floor,  built  against  the  wall,  with 
a  high  stool  before  it.  The  wall  lamp  had 
been  taken  down ;  now  it  stood  with  its  reflector 
on  the  top  of  the  desk,  which  was  covered  with 
books  and  papers.  A  girl  was  sitting  on  the 
stool,  bending  over  a  ledger  and  rapidly  foot- 
ing up  columns.  Bannon  could  not  see  her 
face,  for  a  young  fellow  stood  leaning  over 
the  railing  by  the  desk,  his  back  to  the  door. 
He  had  just  said  something,  and  now  he  was 
laughing  in  a  conscious  manner. 

Bannon  quietly  stepped  to  one  side.  The 
girl  looked  up  for  a  moment  and  brushed  her 
hair  back  from  her  face.  The  fellow  spoke 
again  in  a  low  tone,  but  beyond  a  slight  com- 
pressing of  her  lips  she  did  not  seem  to  hear 
him.  Without  a  word,  Bannon  came  forward, 
took  him  by  the  arm,  and  led  him  out  of  the 
door.  Still  holding  his  arm,  he  took  a  step 
back,  and  (they  stood  in  the  outer  circle  of  the 
electric  light)  looked  him  over. 

"  Let's  see,"  he  said,  **  you're  the  man  that 
was  clerking  here." 


Calumet  "A""  85 

There  was  no  reply. 

"  And  your  name's  —  what?  " 

"  Briggs." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Briggs,  did  you  get  a  message 
from  me  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  said  the 
young  man,  his  eyes  on  the  ground.  "  Max,  he 
come  around,  but  I  wanted  to  wait  and  see  you. 
He's  a  mean  cuss " 

"  You  see  me  now,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Yes."    The  reply  was  indistinct. 

"  You  keep  out  of  the  office  after  this.  If  I 
catch  you  in  there  again,  I  won't  stop  to  talk. 
Now,  clear  out." 

Briggs  walked  a  little  way,  then  turned. 

"  Maybe  you  think  you  can  lay  me  off  with- 
out notice  —  but  you'll  wish " 

Bannon  turned  back  to  the  office,  giving  no 
heed  to  Briggs'  last  words :  "  I've  got  you  fixed 
already."  He  was  thinking  of  the  girl  there 
on  the  stool.  She  did  not  look  like  the  girl  he 
had  expected  to  see.  To  be  sure  her  hair  was 
red,  but  it  was  not  of  the  red  that  outcropped 
from  Max's  big  head;  it  was  of  a  dark,  rich 
color,  and  it  had  caught  the  light  from  the 
lamp  with  such  a  shine  as  there  is  in  new  red 


S6  Calumet  "^" 

gold.  When  he  entered,  she  was  again  footing 
columns.  She  was  slender,  and  her  hand, 
where  it  supported  her  forehead  was  white. 
Again  Bannon  stood  motionless,  slowly  shak- 
ing his  head.  Then  he  came  forward.  She 
heard  his  step  and  looked  up,  as  if  to  answer  a 
question,  letting  her  eyes  rest  on  his  face.  He 
hesitated,  and  she  quietly  asked :  — 

"What  is  it,  please?'' 

"Miss  Vogel?" 

"  Yes." 

"  I'm  Mr.  Bannon.  There  wasn't  any  need 
of  your  working  to-night.  I'm  just  keeping 
the  men  on  so  we  can  get  in  this  cribbing. 
When  did  you  come?  " 

"  My  brother  telephoned  to  me.  I  wanted 
to  look  things  over  before  starting  in  to- 
morrow." 

"How  do  you  find  it?" 

She  hesitated,  glancing  over  the  jumble  of 
papers  on  the  desk. 

"  It  hasn't  been  kept  up  very  well,"  she 
presently  said.  "  But  it  won't  be  hard,  I  think, 
to  straighten  it  out." 

Bannon  leaned  on  the  rail  and  glanced  at  the 
paper  on  which  she  had  been  setting  down 
totals. 


Calumet  "^"  87 

"  I  guess  you'd  better  go  home,  Miss  Vogel. 
It's  after  nine  o'clock." 

"  I  can  finish  in  an  hour." 

"  You'd  better  go.  There'll  be  chances 
enough  for  night  work  without  your  making 
them." 

She  smiled,  cleared  up  the  desk,  and  reached 
for  her  jacket,  which  hung  from  the  nail  behind 
her.    Then  she  paused. 

"  I  thought  I  would  wait  for  my  brother, 
Mr.  Bannon." 

"  That's  all  right.  I  guess  we  can  spare 
him.    I'll  speak  to  him.    Do  you  live  far?  " 

"  No ;  Max  and  I  are  boarding  at  the  same 
place." 

He  had  got  to  the  door  when  she  asked :  — 

"Shall  I  put  out  the  light?" 

He  turned  and  nodded.  She  was  drawing 
on  her  gloves.  She  perhaps  was  not  a  very 
pretty  girl,  but  there  was  something  in  her 
manner,  as  she  stood  there  in  the  dim  light,  her 
hair  straying  out  from  beneath  her  white 
"  sombrero  "  hat,  that  for  the  moment  took 
Bannon  far  away  from  this  environment  of 
railroad  tracks  and  lumber  piles.  He  waited 
till  she  came  out,  then  he  locked  the  door. 


88  Calumet  "K** 

"  ril  walk  along  with  you  myself,  if  you 
don't  mind,"  he  said.  And  after  they  had 
crossed  the  Belt  Line  tracks,  and  he  had  helped 
her,  with  a  little  laugh  from  each  of  them,  to 
pick  her  way  over  the  switches  and  between 
the  freight  cars,  he  said :  "  You  don't  look 
much  like  your  brother." 

It  was  not  a  long  walk  to  the  boarding  house 
but  before  they  had  reached  it  Bannon  was 
nervous.  It  was  not  a  custom  with  him  to 
leave  his  work  on  such  an  errand.  He  bade 
her  a  brusque  good-night,  and  hurried  back, 
pausing  only  after  he  had  crossed  the  tracks, 
to  cast  his  eye  over  the  timber.  There  was  no 
sign  of  activity,  though  the  two  arc  lamps  were 
still  in  place.    "  All  in,  eh,"  he  said. 

He  followed  the  path  beside  the  elevator  and 
on  around  the  end,  and  then,  with  an  exclama- 
tion, he  hurried  forward;  for  there  was  the 
same  idle  crowd  about  the  tracks  that  had  been 
there  during  the  trouble  with  the  section  boss 
—  the  same  buzz  of  talk,  and  the  idle  laughter 
and  shouting.  As  he  ran,  his  foot  struck  a 
timber-end,  and  he  sprawled  forward  for 
nearly  a  rod  before  recovering  his  balance; 
then  he  stopped  and  looked  along  the  ground. 


Calumet  •'K"  89 

A  long  line  of  timbers  lay  end  to  end,  the  tim- 
ber hooks  across  them  or  near  by  on  the 
ground,  where  they  had  been  dropped  by 
the  laborers.  On  along  the  path,  through  the 
fence  openings,  and  out  on  the  tracks,  lay  the 
lines  of  timber.  Here  and  there  Bannon  passed 
gangs  of  men  lounging  on  the  ground,  waiting 
for  the  order  to  move  on.  As  he  passed 
through  the  fence,  walking  on  the  timbers,  and 
hurried  through  the  crowd,  which  had  been 
pushed  back  close  to  the  fence,  he  heard  a  low 
laugh  that  came  along  like  a  wave  from  man 
to  man.  In  a  moment  he  was  in  front  of  them 
all. 

The  middle  tracks  were  clear,  excepting  a 
group  of  three  or  four  men,  who  stood  a  little 
to  one  side.  Bannon  could  not  make  them  out. 
Another  crowd  of  laborers  was  pressed  back 
against  the  opposite  fence.  These  had  moved 
apart  at  one  of  the  fence  openings,  and  as 
Bannon  looked,  two  men  came  through, 
stumbling  and  staggering  under  a  long  ten-by- 
twelve  timber,  which  they  were  carrying  on 
their  shoulders.  Bannon  looked  sharply;  the 
first,  a  big,  deep-chested  man,  bare-headed  and 
in  his  shirt  sleeves,  was  Peterson. 


90  Calumet  "isT" 

Bannon  started  forward,  when  Max,  who 
had  been  hurrying  over  to  him,  touched  his 
arm. 

"What's  all  this.  Max?*' 

"  I'm  glad  you've  come.  It's  Grady,  the 
walking  delegate — that's  him  over  there  where 
those  men  are  standing,  the  little  fellow  with 
his  hat  on  one  side  —  he's  been  here  for  ten 
minutes." 

"  Speak  quick.    What's  the  trouble?  " 

"  First  he  wanted  to  know  how  much  we 
were  paying  the  men  for  night  work,  and  I 
told  him.  Thought  I  might  as  well  be  civil 
to  him.  Then  he  said  we'd  got  to  take  Briggs 
back,  and  I  told  him  Briggs  wasn't  a  union 
man,  and  he  hadn't  anything  to  say  about  it. 
He  and  Briggs  seemed  to  know  each  other. 
Finally  he  came  out  here  on  the  job  and 
said  we  were  working  the  men  too  hard  — 
said  we'd  have  to  put  ten  men  on  the  heavy 
sticks  and  eight  on  the  others.  I  was  going 
to  do  it,  but  Peterson  came  up  and  said  he 
wouldn't  do  it,  and  Grady  called  the  men  off, 
just  where  they  were.  He  wouldn't  let  'em 
lift  a  finger.  You  see  there's  timber  all  over 
the  tracks.    Then  Pete  got  mad,  and  said  him 


Calumet  ''K''  91 

and  Donnelly  could  bring  a  twenty-foot  stick 
over  alone,  and  it  was  all  rot  about  putting  on 
more  men.  Here  they  come  —  just  look  at 
Pete's  arms !    He  could  lift  a  house." 

Some  of  the  men  were  laughing,  others 
growling,  but  all  had  their  eyes  fixed  on  Peter- 
son and  Donnelly  as  they  came  across  the 
tracks,  slowly  picking  their  way,  and  shifting 
the  weight  a  little,  at  every  few  seconds,  on 
their  shoulders.  Bannon  was  glancing  swiftly 
about,  taking  in  the  situation.  He  would  not 
imperil  his  discipline  by  reproving  Peterson 
before  the  men,  so  he  stood  for  a  moment, 
thinking,  until  the  task  should  be  accomplished. 

"  It's  Briggs  that  did  the  whole  business," 
Max  was  saying.  *'  He  brought  the  delegate 
around  —  he  was  blowing  about  it  among  the 
men  when  I  found  him." 

"  Is  he  on  the  job  now?  "  Bannon  asked. 

"  No,  and  I  don't  think  he'll  be  around  again 
very  soon.  There  were  some  loafers  with  him, 
and  they  took  him  away." 

Peterson  and  Donnelly  had  disappeared 
through  the  fence,  and  a  few  of  the  crowd  were 
following,  to  see  them  get  the  timber  clear 
around  the  building  to  the  pile. 


92  Calumet  ''K** 

"  Have  you  sent  out  flagmen,  Max?  "  Ban- 
non  asked. 

"  No,  I  didn^t." 

"  Get  at  it  quick  —  send  a  man  each  way 
with  a  lantern  —  put  something  red  over  them, 
their  shirts  if  necessary." 

"  None  of  the  men  will  dare  do  it  while  the 
delegate's  here." 

"  Find  some  one  —  take  one  side  yourself, 
if  you  have  to." 

Max  hurried  away  for  the  lanterns.  Ban- 
non  walked  out  to  the  group  of  men  on  the 
middle  tracks. 

"  Where's  Mr.  Grady?  "  he  said. 

One  of  the  men  pointed,  but  the  delegate 
gave  no  attention. 

*'  You're  Mr.  Grady,  are  you  ?  "  said  Ban- 
non.  "  I'm  Mr.  Bannon,  of  MacBride  &  Com- 
pany.   What's  the  trouble  here?" 

The  delegate  was  revelling  in  his  authority : 
his  manner  was  not  what  it  was  to  be  when 
he  should  know  Bannon  better.  He  waved  his 
hand  toward  the  wharf. 

"  You  ought  to  know  better  than  that,"  he 
said  curtly. 

"Than  what?" 


Calumet  *'K"  93 

"  Than  what  ?  —  than  running  a  job  the  way 
this  is  run." 

"  I  think  I  can  run  this  job,"  said  Bannon, 
quietly.  "  You  haven't  told  me  whaf  s  the 
trouble  yet." 

"  If  s  right  here  —  you're  trying  to  make 
money  by  putting  on  one  man  to  do  the  work 
of  two." 

"How?" 

Bannon's  quiet  manner  exasperated  the 
delegate. 

"  Use  your  eyes,  man  —  you  can't  make 
eight  men  carry  a  twelve-by-fourteen  stick." 

"  How  many  shall  I  put  on  ?  " 

"  Ten." 

"All  right." 

"And  you'd  better  put  eight  men  on  the 
other  sticks." 

The  delegate  looked  up,  nettled  that  Bannon 
should  yield  so  easily. 

"That's  all  right,"  said  Bannon.  "We 
aren't  fighting  the  union.  After  this,  if  you've 
got  anything  to  say,  I  wish  you'd  come  to  me 
with  it  before  you  call  off  the  men.  Is  there 
anything  else  before  I  start  up  ?  " 

Grady  was  chewing  the  stub  of  a  cigar.    He 


94  Calumet  "isT" 

stood  looking  about  with  an  ugly  air,  then  he 
said :  — 

"  You  ain't  starting  up  just  yet." 

"Why  not?" 

The  delegate's  reply  was  lost  in  the  shout 
that  suddenly  went  up  from  the  western  end 
of  the  line  of  laborers.  Then  came  the  sound 
of  a  locomotive  bell  and  exhaust.  Bannon 
started  down  the  track,  jumping  the  timbers 
as  he  ran,  toward  Vogel's  lantern,  ^that  was 
bobbing  along  toward  him.  The  train  had 
stopped,  but  now  it  was  puffing  slowly  for- 
ward, throwing  a  bright  light  along  the 
rails. 

"It's  a  C.  &  S.  C.  local,"  Max  shouted. 
"  Can't  we  clear  up  the  right  track  ?  " 

Bannon  stopped  and  looked  around.  About 
half  of  the  men  had  followed  him,  and  were 
strung  out  in  irregular  groups  between  him 
and  the  timbers.  Walking  up  between  the 
groups  came  the  delegate,  with  two  men,  chew- 
ing his  cigar  in  silence  as  he  walked.  The 
train  was  creeping  along,  the  fireman  leaning 
far  out  of  the  cab  window,  closely  scanning  the 
track  for  signs  of  an  obstruction.  On  the  steps 
between  the  cars  a  few  passengers  were  trying 


don't  touch  the  timbers,"  he  said.    "  IT  ain't  a  mail 

TRAIN  " 


Calumet  "A""  95 

to  get  a  view  up  the  track;  and  others  were 
running  along  beside  the  train. 

"  This  has  gone  too  far,"  Bannon  muttered. 
He  turned  and  shouted  to  the  men :  "  Clear  up 
that  track.     Quick,  now !  " 

Some  of  the  men  started,  but  stopped,  and 
all  looked  at  the  delegate.  He  stepped  to  one 
side  and  coolly  looked  over  the  train;  then  he 
raised  his  hand. 

"Don't  touch  the  timbers,"  he  said.  "It 
ain't  a  mail  train." 

His  voice  was  not  loud,  but  those  near  at 
hand  passed  the  word  along,  and  the  long  line 
of  men  stood  motionless.  By  that  time  the 
train  had  stopped,  and  three  of  the  crew  had 
come  forward.  They  saw  the  timbers  on  the 
track  and  hurried  toward  them,  but  the  dele- 
gate called  out :  — 

"  Watch  those  sticks,  boys !  Don't  let  a 
man  touch  them !  " 

There  was  no  hesitation  when  the  delegate 
spoke  in  that  tone.  A  score  of  men  blocked 
the  way  of  the  train  crew. 

Bannon  was  angry.  He  stood  looking  at 
Grady  with  snapping  eyes,  and  his  hands  closed 
into   knotted   fists.      But   Bannon   knew   the 


96  Calumet  "K" 

power  of  the  unions,  and  he  knew  that  a  rash 
step  now  might  destroy  all  hope  of  completing 
the  elevator  in  time.  He  crossed  over  to  the 
delegate. 

"  What  do  you  want?  "  he  said  gruffly. 

"  Nothing  from  you." 

"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  Bannon  repeated, 
and  there  was  something  in  his  voice  that 
caused  the  delegate  to  check  a  second  retort. 

"  You'll  kill  these  men  if  you  work  them 
like  this.    They.'ve  been  on  the  job  all  day." 

Bannon  was  beginning  to  see  that  Grady 
was  more  eager  to  make  trouble  than  to  uphold 
the  cause  of  the  men  he  was  supposed  to  repre- 
sent. In  his  experience  with  walking  delegates 
he  had  not  met  this  type  before.  He  was  proud 
of  the  fact  that  he  had  never  had  any  serious 
trouble  in  dealing  with  his  workmen  or  their 
representatives.  Mr.  MacBride  was  fond  of 
saying  that  Bannon's  tact  in  handling  men  was 
unequalled ;  but  Bannon  himself  did  not  think 
of  it  in  this  way  —  to  him,  trouble  with  the 
laborers  or  the  carpenters  or  the  millwrights 
meant  loss  of  time  and  loss  of  money,  the  two 
things  he  was  putting  in  his  time  to  avoid ;  and 
until  now  he  had  found  the  maligned  walking 


Calumet  "K"  97 

delegate  a  fair  man  when  he  was  fairly  dealt 
with.     So  he  said :  — 

"  Well,  what  are  you  asking  ?  " 

"  These  gangs  ought  to  be  relieved  every 
two  hours." 

"  ril  do  it.    Now  clear  up  those  timbers." 

The  delegate  turned  with  a  scowl,  and  waved 
the  men  back  to  their  work.  In  a  moment  the 
track  was  clear,  and  the  train  was  moving 
slowly  onward  between  the  long  lines  of  men. 

Bannon  started  the  gangs  at  work.  When 
the  timbers  were  again  coming  across  from  the 
wharf  in  six  slowly  moving  streams  that  con- 
verged at  the  end  of  the  elevator,  he  stood 
looking  after  the  triangle  of  red  lights  on  the 
last  car  of  the  train  until  they  had  grown  small 
and  close  together  in  the  distance.  Then  he 
went  over  to  the  wharf  to  see  how  much  timber 
remained,  and  to  tell  Peterson  to  hurry  the 
work;  for  he  did  not  look  for  any  further 
accommodation  on  the  part  of  the  C.  &  S.  C. 
railroad,  now  that  a  train  had  been  stopped. 
The  steamer  lay  quietly  at  the  dock,  the  long 
pile  of  cribbing  on  her  deck  shadowed  by  the 
high  bow  deckhouse  from  the  lights  on  the 
spouting    house.      Her    crew    were    bustling 


98  Calumet  *'K'* 

about,  rigging  the  two  hoisting  engines,  and 
making  all  ready  for  unloading  when  the  order 
should  be  given. 

Peterson  had  been  working  through  the 
timber  pile  from  the  shore  side,  so  that  now 
only  a  thin  wall  remained  at  the  outer  edge  of 
the  wharf.  Bannon  found  him  standing  on  the 
pile,  rolling  down  the  sticks  with  a  peavey  to 
where  the  carrying  gangs  could  pick  them  up. 

"  Better  bring  all  your  men  up  here,  Pete, 
and  clean  it  all  away  by  the  steamer.  She  may 
as  well  begin  unloading  now." 

Bannon  walked  back  to  the  tracks,  in  time 
to  see  a  handcar  and  trailer,  packed  with  men, 
come  up  the  track  and  stop  near  at  hand.  The 
men  at  once  scattered,  and  brushing  aside  Ban- 
non*s  laborers,  they  began  replacing  the  sec- 
tions of  fence.  Bannon  crossed  to  the  section 
boss,  who  recognized  him  and  without  com- 
ment handed  him  a  telegraphed  order. 

"  There's  no  getting  around  that,"  he  said, 
when  Bannon  had  read  it.  "  That's  straight 
from  the  old  man." 

Bannon  returned  it,  called  Peterson,  and 
hurried  with  him  around  the  elevator  to  find 
Max,  who  was  overseeing  the  piling. 


Calumet  "A""  99 

"  What'U  we  do  ?  "  Peterson  asked,  as  they 
ran;  but  Bannon  made  no  reply  until  the 
three  were  together.  Then  he  said,  speaking 
shortly :  — 

"  Get  the  wire  cable  off  one  of  your  hoisting 
engines,  Pete,  and  make  one  end  fast  as  high 
as  you  can  on  the  spouting  house.  We'll  run 
it  across  the  tracks,  on  a  slope,  down  to  this 
side.  Max,  you  get  a  light  rope  and  a  running 
block,  and  hang  a  hook  on  it." 

"  I  see,"  said  Max,  eagerly.  "  You're  going 
to  run  it  over  on  a  trolley." 

"  Yes.  The  engineers  have  gone,  haven't 
they?" 

"  Went  at  ^v^^  said  Peterson. 

"  That's  all  right.  We'll  only  need  the  hoist 
at  the  spouting  house.  The  rest  of  it's  just 
plain  sliding  down  hill." 

"But  who'll  run  it?" 

"  I  will.  Pete,  you  get  up  on  the  spouting 
house  and  see  that  they're  started  down.  Max 
will  stay  over  here  and  watch  the  piling.  Now 
rush  it." 

Half  an  hour  had  gone  before  the  cable 
could  be  stretched  from  the  spouting  house, 
high  over  the  tracks,  down  to  the  elevator 


lOO  Calumet  **K** 

structure,  and  before  the  hoisting  engine  could 
be  got  under  steam.  Meanwhile,  for  the  third 
time  since  five  o'clock,  the  laborers  stood  about, 
grumbling  and  growing  more  impatient.  But 
at  last  it  was  all  under  way.  The  timbers 
were  hoisted  lightly  up  the  side  of  the  spouting 
house,  hooked  to  the  travelling  block,  and  sent 
whirling  down  to  Max's  waiting  hands,  to  be 
snatched  away  and  piled  by  the  men.  But 
compared  with  the  other  method,  it  was  slow 
work,  and  Bannon  found  that,  for  lack  of  em- 
ployment, it  was  necessary  to  let  half  of  the 
men  go  for  the  night. 

Soon,  to  the  rattle  of  blocks  and  the  tramp- 
ing of  feet  and  the  calling  and  shouting  of  men, 
was  added  the  creak  of  the  steamer's  hoists, 
and  the  groan  of  her  donkey  engines  as  her 
crew  began  the  work  of  dumping  out  the  crib- 
bing by  hand  and  steam,  on  the  cleared  space 
on  the  wharf.  And  then,  when  the  last  big 
stick  had  gone  over,  Peterson  began  sending 
bundles  of  two-inch  cribbing.  Before  the  work 
was  finished,  and  the  last  plank  from  the 
steamer's  cargo  had  been  tossed  on  the  pile  by 
the  annex,  the  first  faint  color  was  spreading 
over  the  eastern  sky,  and  the  damp  of  a  low- 
country  morning  was  in  the  air. 


Calu'met  "^"..,.,.  ....     loi 

Bannon  stopped  the  engine  and  drew  the 
fire;  Peterson  and  his  crew  clambered  to  the 
ground,  and  Max  put  on  his  coat  and  waited 
for  the  two  foremen  to  come  across  the  tracks. 
When  they  joined  him,  Bannon  looked  sharply 
at  him  in  the  growing  light. 

"  Hello,  Max,"  he  said;  "where  did  you  get 
that  black  eye?" 

**  That  ain't  much,"  Max  replied.  "  You 
ought  to  see  Briggs." 


CHAPTER  VI 

When  Bannon  came  on  the  job  on  Friday- 
morning  at  seven  o'clock,  a  group  of  heavy- 
eyed  men  were  falling  into  line  at  the  timekeep- 
er's window.  Max  was  in  the  office,  passing 
out  the  checks.  His  sister  was  continuing  her 
work  of  the  night  before,  going  over  what 
books  and  papers  were  to  be  found  in  the  desk. 
Bannon  hung  up  his  overcoat  and  looked 
through  the  doorway  at  the  square  mass  of 
the  elevator  that  stood  out  against  the  sky  like 
some  gigantic,  unroofed  barn.  The  walls  rose 
nearly  eighty  feet  from  the  ground  —  though 
the  length  and  breadth  of  the  structure  made 
them  appear  lower  —  so  close  to  the  tops  of  the 
posts  that  were  to  support  the  cupola  frame 
that  Bannon's  eyes  spoke  of  satisfaction.  He 
meant  to  hide  those  posts  behind  the  rising 
walls  of  cribbing  before  the  day  should  be  gone. 

I02 


CaJnlmet  *'K"  ,103 

He  glanced  about  at  the  piles  of  two-inch  plank 
that  hid  the  annex  foundation  work.  There  it 
lay,  two  hundred  thousand  feet  of  it  —  not 
very  much,  to  be  sure,  but  enough  to  keep  the 
men  busy  for  the  present,  and  enough,  too,  to 
give  a  start  to  the  annex  bins  and  walls. 

Peterson  was  approaching  from  the  tool 
house,  and  Bannon  called. 

"  How  many  laborers  have  you  got,  Pete  ?  " 
"  Hardly  any.     Max,  there,  can  tell." 
Max,  who  had  just  passed  out  his  last  check, 
now  joined  them  at  the  doorstep. 

"  There's  just  sixty-two  that  came  for 
checks,"  he  said,  "  not  counting  the  carpen- 
ters." 

"  About  what  I  expected,"  Bannon  replied. 
"  This  night  business  lays  them  out."  He  put 
his  head  in  at  the  door.  "  You'd  better  give 
checks  to  any  new  men  that  we  send  to  the  win- 
dow. Miss  Vogel;  but  keep  the  names  of  the 
old  men,  and  if  they  show  up  in  the  morning, 
take  them  back  on  the  job.  Now,  boys  "  —  to 
Peterson  and  Max  —  "  pick  up  the  men  you 
see  hanging  around  and  send  them  over.  I'll 
be  at  the  office  for  a  while.  We'll  push  the 
cribbing  on  the  main  house  and  start  right  in 


104      '  <  .,     r.^JCalumet  *'X" 

. ' '* J  >•  ^ >«•  *  >«•*'    , , 

on  the  annex  bins.  There  ain*t  much  time  to 
throw  around  if  we're  going  to  eat  our  Christ- 
mas dinner." 

The  two  went  at  once.  The  hoisting  engines 
were  impatiently  blowing  off  steam.  New  men 
were  appearing  every  moment,  delaying  only 
to  answer  a  few  brisk  questions  and  to  give 
their  names  to  Miss  Vogel,  and  then  hurrying 
away  to  the  tool  house,  each  with  his  brass 
check  fastened  to  his  coat.  When  Bannon  was 
at  last  ready  to  enter  the  office,  he  paused  again 
to  look  over  the  ground.  The  engines  were 
now  puffing  steadily,  and  the  rapping  of  many 
hammers  came  through  the  crisp  air.  Gangs  of 
laborers  were  swarming  over  the  lumber  piles, 
pitching  down  the  planks,  and  other  gangs 
were  carrying  them  away  and  piling  them  on 
"  dollies,"  to  be  pushed  along  the  plank  run- 
ways to  the  hoist.  There  was  a  black  fringe  of 
heads  between  the  posts  on  the  top  of  the  ele- 
vator, where  the  carpenters  were  spiking  down 
the  last  planks  of  the  walls  and  bins. 

Miss  Vogel  was  at  work  on  the  ledger  when 
Bannon  entered  the  office.  He  pushed  his  hat 
back  on  his  head  and  came  up  beside  her. 

"  How's  it  coming  out  ?  "  he  asked.  "  Do 
we  know  how  much  we're  good  for  ?  " 


Calumet  *'K"  105 

She  looked  up,  smiling. 

"  I  think  so.  I'm  nearly  through.  It's  a 
little  mixed  in  some  places,  but  I  think  every- 
thing has  been  entered." 

"  Can  you  drop  it  long  enough  to  take  a 
letter  or  so  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes."  She  reached  for  her  notebook, 
saying,  with  a  nod  toward  the  table :  "  The 
mail  is  here." 

Bannon  went  rapidly  through  the  heap  of 
letters  and  bills. 

"  There's  nothing  much,"  he  said.  "  You 
needn't  wait  for  me  to  open  it  after  this.  You'll 
want  to  read  everything  to  keep  posted.  These 
bills  for  cribbing  go  to  your  brother,  you 
know."  There  was  one  chair  within  the  enclos- 
ure ;  he  brought  it  forward  and  sat  down,  tip- 
ping back  against  the  railing.  "  Well,  I  guess 
we  may  as  well  go  ahead  and  tell  the  firm  that 
we're  still  moving  around  and  drawing  our 
salaries.  To  MacBride  &  Company,  Min- 
neapolis, Gentlemen :  Cribbing  is  now  going  up 
on  elevator  and  annex.  A  little  over  two  feet 
remains  to  be  done  on  the  elevator  beneath  the 
distributing  floor.  The  timber  is  ready  for 
framing  the  cupola.     Two  hundred  thousand 


io6  Calumet  "isT" 

feet  of  the  Ledyard  cribbing  reached  here  by 
steamer  last  night,  and  the  balance  will  be  down 
in  a  few  days.  Very  truly  yours,  MacBride 
&  Company.  That  will  do  for  them.  Now, 
we'll  write  to  Mr.  Brown  —  no,  you  needn't 
bother,  though;  I'll  do  that  one  myself.  You 
might  run  off  the  other  and  I'll  sign  it."  He 
got  up  and  moved  his  chair  to  the  table.  "  I 
don't  generally  seem  able  to  say  just  what  I 
want  to  Brown  unless  I  write  it  out."  His  let- 
ter ran:  — 


Dear  Mr.  Brown:  We've  finally  got  things  going. 
Had  to  stir  them  up  a  little  at  Ledyard.  Can  you  tell  me 
who  it  is  that's  got  hold  of  our  coat  tails  on  this  job? 
There's  somebody  trying  to  hold  us  back,  all  right.  Had 
a  little  fuss  with  a  red-headed  walking  delegate  last  night, 
but  fixed  him.  That  hat  hasn't  come  yet.  Shall  I  call 
up  the  express  company  and  see  what's  the  matter  ?  7 J  is 
my  size.  Yours, 

Bannon. 


He  had  folded  the  letter  and  addressed  the 
envelope,  when  he  paused  and  looked  around. 
The  typewritten  letter  to  MacBride  &  Com- 
pany lay  at  his  elbow.  He  signed  it  before  he 
spoke. 

"  Miss  Vogel,  have  you  come  across  any  let- 


Calumet  ''K''  107 

ters  or  papers  about  an  agreement  with  the  C. 
&S.  C?" 

"  No,"  she  replied,  "  there  is  nothing  here 
about  the  railroad." 

Bannon  drummed  on  the  table ;  then  he  went 
to  the  door  and  called  to  a  laborer  who  was 
leaving  the  tool  house:  — 

"  Find  Mr.  Peterson  and  ask  him  if  he  will 
please  come  to  the  office  for  a  moment." 

He  came  slowly  back  and  sat  on  the  corner  of 
the  table,  watching  Miss  Vogel  as  her  pencil 
moved  rapidly  up  column  after  column. 

"  Had  quite  a  time  up  there  in  Michigan," 
he  said.  "  Those  G.  &  M.  people  were  after  us 
in  earnest.  If  they'd  had  their  way,  we'd 
never  have  got  the  cribbing." , 

She  looked  up. 

"  You  see,  they  had  told  Sloan  —  he's  the 
man  that  owns  the  lumber  company  and  the  city 
of  Ledyard  and  pretty  much  all  of  the  Lower 
Peninsula —  that  they  hadn't  any  cars; 
and  he'd  just  swallowed  it  down  and  folded  up 
his  napkin.  I  hadn't  got  to  Ledyard  before  I 
saw  a  string  of  empties  on  a  siding  that  weren't 
doing  a  thing  but  waiting  for  our  cribbing,  so 
I  caught  a  train  to  Blake  City  and  gave  the 


I08  Calumet  "A'" 

Division  Superintendent  some  points  on  run- 
ning railroads.  He  was  a  nice,  friendly  man  " 
—  Bannon  clasped  his  hands  about  one  knee 
and  smiled  reminiscently  —  "I  had  him  pretty 
busy  there  for  a  while  thinking  up  lies.  He 
was  wondering  how  he  could  get  ready  for  the 
next  caller,  when  I  came  at  him  and  made  him 
wire  the  General  Manager  of  the  line.  The 
operator  was  sitting  right  outside  the  door,  and 
when  the  answer  came  I  just  took  it  in  —  it 
gave  the  whole  snap  away,  clear  as  you  want." 

Miss  Vogel  turned  on  her  stool.  - 

"  You  took  his  message?  " 

"  I  should  say  I  did.  It  takes  a  pretty  lively 
man  to  crowd  me  off  the  end  of  a  wire.  He 
told  the  superintendent  not  to  give  us  cars. 
That  was  all  I  wanted  to  know.  So  I  told  him 
how  sorry  I  was  that  I  couldn't  stay  to  lunch, 
caught  the  next  train  back  to  Ledyard,  and 
built  a  fire  under  Sloan.'* 

Miss  Vogel  was  looking  out  of  the  window. 

"  He  said  he  could  not  give  us  cars  ?  "  she 
repeated. 

Bannon  smiled. 

"But  we  didn't  need  them,"  he  said.  "I 
got  a  barge  to  come  over  from  Milwaukee,  and 
we  loaded  her  up  and  started  her  down." 


Calumet  ''K''  109 

"  I  don't  understand,  Mr.  Bannon.  Led- 
yard  isn't  on  the  lake  —  and  you  couldn't  get 
cars." 

"  That  wasn't  very  hard."  He  paused,  for 
a  step  sounded  outside  the  door  and  in  a  mo- 
ment Peterson  had  come  in. 

"  I  guess  you  wanted  to  talk  to  me,  didn't 
you,  Charlie  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I'm  writing  to  the  office.  It's  about 
this  C.  &  S.  C.  business.  You  said  you'd  had 
trouble  with  them  before." 

"  Oh,  no,"  said  Peterson,  sitting  on  the  rail- 
ing and  removing  his  hat,  with  a  side  glance  at 
Miss  Vogel,  "  not  to  speak  of.  There  wasn't 
nothing  so  bad  as  last  night." 

"What  was  it?" 

"  Why,  just  a  little  talk  when  we  opened  the 
fence  first  time.  That  section  boss  was  around, 
but  I  told  him  how  things  was,  and  he  didn't 
seem  to  have  no  kick  coming  as  long  as  we  was 
careful." 

Bannon  had  taken  up  his  letter  to  Brown, 
and  was  slowly  unfolding  it  and  looking  it 
over.  When  Peterson  got  to  his  feet,  he  laid  it 
on  the  table. 

"  Anything  else,  Charlie  ?    I'm  just  getting 


no  Calumet  "A"* 

things  to  going  on  the  annex.  We're  going  to 
make  her  jump,  I  tell  you.  I  ain't  allowing  any 
loafing  there." 

"  No,"  Bannon  replied,  "  I  guess  not."  He 
followed  the  foreman  out  of  doors.  "  Do  you 
remember  having  any  letters,  Pete,  about  our 
agreement  with  the  C.  &  S.  C.  to  build  over 
the  tracks  —  from  the  office  or  anybody  ?  " 

Peterson  brought  his  brows  together  and 
tried  to  remember.  After  a  moment  he  slowly 
shook  his  head. 

"  Nothing,  eh  ?  "  said  Bannon. 

"  Not  that  I  can  think  of.  Something  may 
have  come  in  while  Max  was  here  in  the  of- 
fice  " 

"  I  wish  you'd  ask  him." 

"  All  right.  He'll  be  around  my  way  before 
long,  taking  the  time." 

"  And  say,"  Bannon  added,  with  one  foot 
on  the  doorstep,  "  you  haven't  seen  anything 
more  of  that  man  Briggs,  have  you?  " 

Peterson  shook  his  head. 

"  If  you  see  him  hanging  around,  you  may 
as  well  throw  him  right  off  the  job." 

Peterson  grinned. 

"  I  guess  he  won't  show  up  very  fast.    Max 


Calumet  "A"'  III 

did  him  up  good  last  night,  when  he  was  blow- 
ing off  about  bringing  the  delegate  around." 

Bannon  had  drawn  the  door  to  after  him 
when  he  came  out.  He  was  turning  back,  with 
a  hand  on  the  knob,  when  Peterson,  who  was 
lingering,  said  in  a  low  voice,  getting  out  the 
words  awkwardly :  —  , 

*'  Say,  Charlie,  she's  all  right,  ain't  she." 

Bannon  did  not  reply,  and  Peterson  jerked 
his  thumb  toward  the  office. 

"  Max's  sister,  there.  I  never  saw  any  red 
hair  before  that  was  up  to  the  mark.  Ain't  she 
a  little  uppish,  though,  don't  you  think  ?  " 

"  I  guess  not." 

"  Red-haired  girls  generally  is.  They've  got 
tempers,  too,  most  of  them.  It's  funny  about 
her  looks.  She  don't  look  any  more  like  Max 
than  anything."  He  grinned  again.  "  Lord, 
Max  is  a  peach,  though,  ain't  he." 

Bannon  nodded  and  reentered  the  office.  He 
sat  down  and  added  a  postscript  to  his  letter : 

The  C.  &  S.  C.  people  are  trying  to  make  it  warm  for 
us  about  working  across  their  tracks.  Can't  we  have  an 
understanding  with  them  before  we  get  ready  to  put  up 
the  belt  gallery  ?  If  we  don't,  we'll  have  to  build  a  sus- 
pension bridge.  C.  B. 


112  Calumet  "AT" 

He  sealed  the  envelope  and  tossed  it  to  one 
side. 

"  Miss  Vogel,"  he  said,  pushing  his  chair 
back,  "  didn't  you  ask  me  something  just 
now  ?  " 

"  It  was  about  getting  the  cribbing  across 
the  lake,"  she  replied.  "  I  don't  see  how  you 
did  it." 

Her  interest  in  the  work  pleased  Bannon. 

"  It  ain't  a  bad  story.  You  see  the  farmers 
up  in  that  country  hate  the  railroads.  It's  the 
tariff  rebate,  you  know.  They  have  to  pay 
more  to  ship  their  stuff  to  market  than  some 
places  a  thousand  miles  farther  off.  And  I 
guess  the  service  is  pretty  bad  all  around.  I 
was  figuring  on  something  like  that  as  soon  as 
I  had  a  look  at  things.  So  we  got  up  a  poster 
and  had  it  printed,  telling  what  they  all  think 
of  the  G.  &  M."  —  he  paused,  and  his  eyes 
twinkled  —  "I  wouldn't  mind  handing  one  to 
that  Superintendent  just  for  the  fun  of  seeing 
him  when  he  read  it.  It  told  the  farmers  to 
come  around  to  Sloan's  lumber  yard  with  their 
wagons." 

"  And  you  carried  it  across  in  the  wagons  ?  *' 

"  I  guess  we  did." 


Calumet  "A""  1 13 

"  Isn't  it  a  good  ways  ?  " 

"  Eighteen  to  thirty  miles,  according  to  who 
you  ask.  As  soon  as  things  got  to  going  we 
went  after  the  General  Manager  and  gave  him 
a  bad  half  hour ;  so  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  to 
see  the  rest  of  the  bill  coming  in  by  rail  any 
time  now." 

Bannon  got  up  and  slowly  buttoned  his  coat. 
He  was  looking  about  the  office,  at  the  mud- 
tracked  floor  and  the  coated  windows,  and  at 
the  hanging  shreds  of  spider  web  in  the  corners 
and  between  the  rafters  overhead. 

"  It  ain't  a  very  cheerful  house  to  live  in  all 
day,  is  it  ?  "  he  said.  "  I  don't  know  but  what 
we'd  better  clean  house  a  little.  There's  not 
much  danger  of  putting  a  shine  on  things 
that'll  hurt  your  eyes.  We  ought  to  be  able  to 
get  hold  of  some  one  that  could  come  in  once 
in  a  while  and  stir  up  the  dust.  Do  you  know 
of  any  one?  " 

"  There  is  a  woman  that  comes  to  our  board- 
ing-house. I  think  they  know  about  her  at  the 
hotel." 

He  went  to  the  telephone  and  called  up  the 
hotel. 

"  She'll  be  here  this  afternoon,"  he  said  as 


114  Calumet  ''K" 

he  hung  up  the  receiver.  "  Will  she  bring  her 
own  scrubbing  things,  or  are  we  supposed  to 
have  them  for  her?  This  is  some  out  of  my 
line." 

Miss  Vogd  was  smiling. 

"  She'll  have  her  own  things,  I  guess. 
When  she  comes,  would  you  like  me  to  start 
her  to  work  ?  " 

"If  you'd  just  as  soon.  And  tell  her  to 
make  a  good  job  of  it.  I've  got  to  go  out 
now,  but  I'll  be  around  off  and  on  during  the 
day." 

When  the  noon  whistle  blew  Bannon  and 
Max  were  standing  near  the  annex.  Already 
the  bins  and  walls  had  been  raised  more  than  a 
foot  above  the  foundation,  which  gave  it  the 
appearance  of  a  great  checker-board. 

"  Looks  like  business,  doesn't  it,"  said  Max. 
He  was  a  little  excited,  for  now  there  was  to 
be  no  more  delaying  until  the  elevator  should 
stand  completed  from  the  working  floor  to  the 
top,  one  hundred  and  sixty  feet  above  the 
ground;  until  engines,  conveyors,  and  scales 
should  be  working  smoothly  and  every  bin 
filled  with  grain.  Indeed,  nearly  everybody  on 
the  job  had  by  this  time  caught  the  spirit  of 


Calumet  "K'*  115 

energy  that  Bannon  had  infused  into  the 
work. 

"  I'll  be  glad  when  it  gets  up  far  enough  to 
look  like  something,  so  we  can  feel  that  things 
are  really  getting  on." 

"  They're  getting  on  all  right,"  Bannon  re- 
plied. 

"  How  soon  will  we  be  working  on  the  cu- 
pola?" 

"  To-morrow." 

"To-morrow!"  Max  stopped  (they  had 
started  toward  the  office)  and  looked  at  Ban- 
non in  amazement.  "  Why,  we  can't  do  it,  can 
we?" 

"  Why  not  ?  "  Bannon  pointed  toward  a 
cleared  space  behind  the  pile  of  cribbing,  where 
the  carpenters  had  been  at  work  on  the  heavy 
timbers.  "  They're  all  ready  for  the  fram- 
mg. 

Max  made  no  reply,  but  he  looked  up  as 
they  passed  the  elevator  and  measured  with  his 
eyes  the  space  remaining  between  the  cribbing 
and  the  tops  of  the  posts.  He  had  yet  to  be- 
come accustomed  to  Bannon's  methods ;  but  he 
had  seen  enough  of  him  to  believe  that  it  would 
be  done  if  Bannon  said  so. 


Ii6  Calumet  "iT" 

They  were  halfway  to  the  office  when  Max 
said,  with  a  touch  of  embarrassment :  — 

"  How's  Hilda  going  to  take  hold,  Mr.  Ban- 
non?" 

"  First-class." 

Max's  eyes  sparkled. 

"  She  can  do  anything  you  give  her.  Her 
head's  as  clear  as  a  bell." 

For  the  moment  Bannon  made  no  reply,  but 
as  they  paused  outside  the  office  door  he  said : 

"  We'd  better  make  a  point  of  dropping  in 
at  the  office  now  and  then  during  the  day. 
Any  time  you  know  I'm  out  on  the  job  and 
you're  up  this  way,  just  look  in." 

Max  nodded. 

"  And  nights  when  we're  working  overtime, 
there  won't  be  any  trouble  about  your  getting 
off  long  enough  to  see  your  sister  home.  She 
won't  need  to  do  any  night  work." 

They  entered  the  office.  Miss  Vogel  was 
standing  by  the  railing  gate,  buttoning  her 
jacket  and  waiting  for  Max.  Behind  her, 
bending  over  the  blue  prints  on  the  table,  stood 
Peterson,  apparently  too  absorbed  to  hear  the 
two  men  come  in.  Bannon  gave  him  a  curious 
glance,  for  no  blue  prints  were  needed  in  work- 


Calumet  ''K"  1 17 

ing  on  the  annex,  which  was  simply  a  matter 
of  building  bins  up  from  the  foundation.  When 
Max  and  his  sister  had  gone  the  foreman 
looked  around,  and  said,  with  a  show  of  sur- 
prise :  — 

"Oh,  hello,  Charlie.  Going  up  to  the 
house  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

Peterson's  manner  was  not  wholly  natural. 
As  they  walked  across  the  flats  his  conversa- 
tion was  a  little  forced,  and  he  laughed  occa- 
sionally at  certain  occurrences  in  the  morning's 
work  that  were  not  particularly  amusing. 

Bannon  did  not  get  back  to  the  oflice  until  a 
half  hour  after  work  had  commenced  for  the 
afternoon.  He  carried  a  large  bundle  under 
one  arm  and  in  his  hand  a  wooden  box  with 
a  slot  cut  in  the  cover.  He  found  the  scrub- 
woman hard  at  work  on  the  office  floor.  The 
chair  and  the  unused  stool  were  on  the  table. 
He  looked  about  with  satisfaction. 

"  It  begins  to  look  better  already,"  he  said  to 
Miss  Vogel.  "  You  know  we're  not  going  to 
be  able  to  keep  it  all  clean ;  there'll  be  too  many 
coming  in.  But  there's  going  to  be  a  law 
passed  about  tracking  mud  inside  the  railing." 


Ii8  Calumet  ''K'' 

He  opened  his  bundle  and  unrolled  a  door  mat, 
which  he  laid  in  front  of  the  gate. 

Miss  Vogel  was  smiling,  but  Bannon's  face 
was  serious.  He  cut  a  square  piece  from  the 
wrapping  paper,  and  sitting  on  the  table, 
printed  the  placard :  "  Wipe  your  feet !  Or 
put  five  cents  in  the  box."  Then  he  nailed  both 
box  and  placard  to  the  railing,  and  stood  back 
to  look  at  his  work. 

"  That  will  do  it,"  he  said. 

She  nodded.  "  There's  no  danger  that  they 
won't  see  it." 

"  We  had  a  box  down  on  the  New  Orleans 
job,"  said  Bannon,  "only  that  was  for  swear- 
ing. Every  time  anybody  swore  he  put  in  a 
nickel,  and  then  when  Saturday  came  around 
we'd  have  ten  or  fifteen  dollars  to  spend." 

"  It  didn't  stop  the  swearing,  then  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  Everybody  was  broke  a  day  or 
so  after  pay  day,  and  for  a  few  days  every 
week  it  was  the  best  crowd  you  ever  saw.  But 
we  won't  spend  this  money  that  way.  I  guess 
we'll  let  you  decide  what  to  do  with  it." 

Hour  by  hour  the  piles  of  cribbing  dwindled, 
and  on  the  elevator  the  distance  from  bin  walls 
to  post-tops  grew  shorter.    Before  five  o'clock 


Calumet  "K"  119 

the  last  planks  were  spiked  home  on  the  walls 
and  bins  in  the  northwest  corner.  A  few 
hours'  work  in  the  morning  would  bring  the 
rest  of  the  house  to  the  same  level,  and  then 
work  could  commence  on  the  distributing  floor 
and  on  the  frame  of  the  cupola.  Before  the 
middle  of  the  afternoon  he  had  started  two 
teams  of  horses  dragging  the  cupola  timbers, 
which  had  been  cut  ready  for  framing,  to  the 
foot  of  the  hoist.  By  ten  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, Bannon  figured,  the  engine  would  be  lift- 
ing timbers  instead  of  bundles  of  cribbing. 

There  was  a  chill  wind,  up  there  on  the  top 
of  the  elevator,  coming  across  the  flats  out  of 
the  glowing  sunset.  But  Bannon  let  his  coat 
flap  open,  as  he  gave  a  hand  now  and  then  to 
help  the  men.  He  liked  to  feel  the  wind  tug- 
ging at  sleeves  and  cap,  and  he  leaned  against 
it,  bare-throated  and  bare-handed  —  bare- 
headed, too,  he  would  have  been  had  not  a  car- 
penter, rods  away  on  the  cribbing,  put  out  a 
hand  to  catch  his  cap  as  it  tried  to  whirl  past  on 
a  gust.  The  river  wound  away  toward  the 
lake,  touched  with  the  color  of  the  sky,  to  lose 
itself  half  a  mile  away  among  the  straggling 
rows  of  factories  and  rolling  mills.    From  the 


120  Calumet  "iST" 

splendid  crimson  of  the  western  sky  to  the 
broken  horizen  line  of  South  Chicago,  whose 
buildings  hid  Lake  Michigan,  the  air  was  crisp 
and  clear ;  but  on  the  north,  over  the  dim  shops 
and  blocks  of  houses  that  grew  closer  together 
as  the  eye  went  on,  tmtil  spires  and  towers  and 
gray  walls  were  massed  in  confusion,  hung  a 
veil  of  smoke,  like  a  black  cloud,  spreading 
away  farther  than  eye  could  see.  This  was 
Chicago. 

Bannon  climbed  to  the  ground  and  took  a 
last  look  about  the  work  before  going  to  the 
office.  The  annex  was  growing  slowly  but 
surely;  and  Peterson,  coatless  and  hatless  as 
usual,  with  sleeves  rolled  up,  was  at  work  with 
the  men,  swinging  a  hammer  here,  impatiently 
shouldering  a  bundle  of  planks  there.  And 
Bannon  saw  more  clearly  what  he  had  known 
before,  that  Peterson  was  a  good  man  when 
kept  within  his  limitations.  Certainly  the  an- 
nex could  not  have  been  better  started. 

When  Bannon  entered  the  office,  Miss  Vogel 
handed  him  a  sheet  of  paper.  He  came  in 
through  the  gate  and  stood  at  the  desk  beside 
her  to  have  the  light  of  the  lamp.  It  was  a 
balance  sheet,  giving  the  results  of  her  exam- 
ination of  the  books. 


Calumet  ''K'*  121 

"All  right,  eh?"  he  said.  A  glance  had 
been  enough  to  show  him  that  hereafter  there 
would  be  no  confusion  in  the  books ;  the  cashier 
of  a  metropolitan  bank  could  not  have  issued  a 
more  businesslike  statement.  He  tossed  it  on 
the  desk,  saying,  "  You  might  file  it." 

Then  he  took  time  to  look  about  the  office. 
It  was  as  clean  as  blackened,  splintered  planks 
could  be  made;  even  the  ceiling  had  been  at- 
tacked and  every  trace  of  cobweb  removed. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  this  is  business.  And 
we'll  keep  it  this  way,  too." 

She  had  faced  about  on  the  stool  and  was 
looking  at  him  with  a  twinkle  in  her  eye. 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  evidently  trying  not  to 
laugh ;  "  we'll  try  to." 

He  was  not  looking  at  her  as  she  spoke,  but 
when,  a  moment  later,  the  laugh  broke  away 
from  her,  he  turned.  She  was  looking  at  his 
feet.  He  glanced  down  and  saw  a  row  of  black 
footprints  leading  from  the  door  to  where  he 
stood,  one  of  them  squarely  in  the  centre  of  the 
new  mat.  He  gazed  ruefully,  then  he  reached 
into  his  pocket  and  drew  out  a  quarter,  drop- 
ping it  in  the  box, 

"  Well "  he  said,  wiping  his  feet ;  but 


122  Calumet  "^" 

the  whistle  just  then  gave  a  long  blast,  and  he 
did  not  finish  the  sentence. 

After  supper  Bannon  and  Peterson  sat  in 
the  room  they  occupied  together.  In  the  walk 
home  and  during  supper  there  had  been  the 
same  sullen  manner  about  the  younger  man 
that  Bannon  had  observed  at  noon.  Half  a  day 
was  a  long  time  for  Peterson  to  keep  to  him- 
self something  that  bothered  him,  and  before 
the  close  of  dinner  he  had  begun  working  the 
talk  around.  Now,  after  a  long  silence,  that 
Bannon  filled  with  sharpening  pencils,  he  said : 

"  vSome  people  think  a  lot  of  themselves, 
don't  they,  Charlie?'' 

Bannon  looked  up  from  his  pencils;  he  was 
sitting  on  the  edge  of  the  bed. 

"  She  seems  to  think  she's  better'n  Max  and 
you  and  me,  and  everybody.  I  thought  she 
looked  pretty  civil,  and  I  didn't  say  a  word 
she  need  to  have  got  stuck-up  about/' 

Bannon  asked  no  questions.  After  waiting 
to  give  him  an  opportunity,  Peterson  went 
on:  — 

"  There's  going  to  be  a  picnic  Sunday  of  the 
Iron  Workers  up  at  Sharpshooters'  Park.  I 
know  a  fellow  that  has  tickets.    It'd  be  just  as 


Calumet  "^"  123 

quiet  as  anywhere  —  and  speeches,  you  know. 
I  don't  see  that  she's  any  better  than  a  lot  of 
the  girls  that'll  be  there." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  asked  her  to  go  ?  " 
Bannon  asked. 

"Yes,  and  she " 

Bannon  had  turned  away  to  strop  his  razor 
on  his  hand,  and  Peterson,  after  one  or  two 
attempts  to  begin  the  story,  let  the  subject 
drop. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Bannon  had  the  knack  of  commanding  men. 
He  knew  the  difference  between  an  isolated  — 
or  better,  perhaps,  an  insulated  —  man  and  the 
same  man  in  a  crowd.  Without  knowing  how 
he  did  it,  he  could,  nevertheless,  distinguish 
between  the  signs  of  temporary  ill  feeling 
among  the  men  and  the  perhaps  less  apparent 
danger  signal  that  meant  serious  mischief. 

Since  his  first  day  on  the  job  the  attitude  of 
the  men  had  worried  him  a  little.  There  was 
something  in  the  air  he  did  not  like.  Peterson, 
accustomed  to  handling  smaller  bodies  of  men, 
had  made  the  natural  mistake  of  driving  the 
very  large  force  employed  on  the  elevator  with 
much  too  loose  a  rein.  The  men  were  still 
further  demoralized  by  the  episode  with  the 
walking  delegate,  Grady,  on  Thursday  night. 
Bannon  knew  too  much  to  attempt  halfway 
124 


Calumet  "AT"  12$ 

measures,  so  he  waited  for  a  case  of  insubordi- 
nation serious  enough  to  call  for  severe  treat- 
ment. 

When  he  happened  into  the  office  about  the 
middle  of  Saturday  morning,  Miss  Vogel 
handed  him  two  letters  addressed  to  him  per- 
sonally. One  was  from  Brown,  —  the  last 
paragraph  of  it  as  follows :  — 

Young  Page  has  told  MacBride  in  so  many  words  what 
we've  all  been  guessing  about,  that  is,  that  they  are  fight- 
ing to  break  the  corner  in  December  wheat.  They  have 
a  tremendous  short  line  on  the  Chicago  Board,  and  they 
mean  to  deliver  it.  Twenty-two  hundred  thousand  has 
got  to  be  in  the  bins  there  at  Calumet  before  the  first  of 
January  unless  the  Day  of  Judgment  happens  along  before 
then.    Never  mind  what  it  costs  you.  Brown. 

P.S.  MacBride  has  got  down  an  atlas  and  is  trying  to 
figure  out  how  you  got  that  cribbing  to  the  lake.  I  told 
him  you  put  the  barge  on  rollers  and  towed  it  up  to  Led* 
3rard  with  a  traction  engine. 

The  letter  from  Sloan  was  to  the  effect  that 
twelve  cars  were  at  that  moment  on  the  yard 
siding,  loading  with  cribbing,  and  that  all  of  it, 
something  more  than  eighteen  hundred  thou- 
sand feet,  would  probably  be  in  Chicago  within 
a  week.  A  note  was  scribbled  on  the  margin 
in  Sloan's  handwriting.    "  Those  fool  farmers 


126  Calumet  "K" 

are  still  coming  in  expecting  a  job.  One  is  out 
in  the  yard  now.  Came  clear  from  Victory. 
IVe  had  to  send  out  a  man  to  take  down  the 
posters." 

*'  That's  just  like  a  farmer,"  Bannon  said  to 
Miss  Vogel.  "  Time  don't  count  with  him. 
To-morrow  morning  or  two  weeks  from  next 
Tuesday  —  he  can't  see  the  difference.  I  sup- 
pose if  one  of  those  posters  on  an  inconspicuous 
tree  happens  to  be  overlooked  that  some  old  fel- 
low'll  come  driving  in  next  Fourth  of  July." 

He  buttoned  his  coat  as  though  going  out, 
but  stood  looking  at  her  thoughtfully  awhile. 
''  All  the  same,"  he  said,  "  I'd  like  to  be  that 
way  myself ;  never  do  anything  till  to-morrow. 
I'm  going  to  turn  farmer  some  day.  Once  I 
get  this  job  done,  I'd  like  to  see  the  man 
who  can  hurry  me.  I'll  say  to  MacBride :  '  I'm 
willing  to  work  on  nice,  quiet,  easy  little  jobs 
that  never  have  to  be  finished.  I'll  want  to  sit 
at  the  desk  and  whittle  most  of  the  time.  But 
if  you  ever  try  to  put  me  on  a  rush  job  I'll  quit 
and  buy  a  small  farm.'  I  could  make  the 
laziest  farmer  in  twelve  states.  Well,  I've  got 
to  go  out  on  the  job." 

An  elevator  is  simply  a  big  grain  warehouse, 


Calumet  "K"  127 

and  of  course  the  bins  where  the  grain  is  kept 
occupy  most  of  the  building.  But  for  handling 
the  grain  more  than  bin  room  is  necessary.  Be- 
neath the  bins  is  what  is  called  the  working 
story,  where  is  the  machinery  for  unloading 
cars  and  for  lifting  the  grain.  The  cupola, 
w^hich  Bannon  was  about  to  frame,  is  a  five- 
story  building  perched  atop  the  bins.  It  con- 
tains the  appliances  for  weighing  the  grain  and 
distributing  it. 

When  Bannon  climbed  out  on  top  of  the 
bins,  he  found  the  carpenters  partially  floor- 
ing over  the  area,  preparatory  to  putting  in 
place  the  framework  of  the  cupola.  Below 
them  in  the  bins,  like  bees  in  a  honeycomb,  la- 
borers were  taking  down  the  scaffolding  which 
had  served  in  building  their  walls.  At  the 
south  side  of  the  building  a  group  of  laborers, 
under  one  of  the  foremen,  was  rigging  what  is 
known  as  a  boom  hoist,  which  was  to  lift  the 
timbers  for  framing  the  cupola. 

While  Bannon  stood  watching  the  carpen- 
ters, one  of  them  sawed  off  the  end  of  a  plank 
and  dropped  it  down  into  the  bin.  There  was 
a  low  laugh,  and  one  or  two  of  the  men  glanced 
uneasily  at  Bannon.    He  spoke  to  the  offender. 


128  Calumet  '*K** 

**  Don't  do  that  again  if  you  want  to  stay  on 
this  job.  You  know  there  are  men  at  work 
down  there."  Then :  "  Look  here,"  he  called, 
getting  the  attention  of  all  the  carpenters, 
"  every  man  that  drops  anything  into  the  bins 
gets  docked  an  hour's  pay.  If  he  does  it  twice 
he  leaves  the  job  just  as  quick  as  we  can 
make  out  a  time-check.  I  want  you  to  be 
careful." 

He  was  picking  his  way  over  to  the  group  of 
men  about  the  hoisting  pole,  when  he  heard 
another  general  laugh  from  the  carpenters. 
Turning  back  he  saw  them  all  looking  at  a  fel- 
low named  Reilly,  who,  trying  to  suppress  a 
smile,  was  peering  with  mock  concern  down 
into  the  dark  bin.  "  My  hammer  slipped,", 
Bannon  heard  him  say  in  a  loud  aside  to  the 
man  nearest  him.  Then,  with  a  laugh :  "  Acci- 
dents will  happen." 

Bannon  almost  smiled  himself,  for  the  man 
had  played  right  into  his  hand.  He  had,  in  the 
four  days  since  he  took  command,  already  be- 
come aware  of  Reilly  and  had  put  him  down 
for  the  sort  ambitious  to  rise  rather  in  the  or- 
ganization of  his  union  than  in  his  trade. 

"  I  guess  we  won't  take  the  trouble  to  dock 


Calumet  '*K**  129 

you,"  he  said.  "  Go  to  the  office  and  get  your 
time.    And  be  quick  about  it,  too." 

"  Did  ye  mean  me  ?  "  the  man  asked  impu- 
dently, but  Bannon,  without  heeding,  went 
over  to  the  hoist.  Presently  a  rough  hand  fell 
on  his  shoulder.  "  Say,"  demanded  Reilly 
again,  "  did  ye  mean  me  ?  " 

"  No  doubt  of  that.    Go  and  get  your  time." 

"  I  guess  not,"  said  the  man.  "  Not  me. 
My  hammer  just  slipped.  How're  you  going 
to  prove  I  meant  to  do  it  ?  " 

"  I'm  not.  I'm  going  to  fire  you.  You  ain't 
laid  off,  you  understand;  you're  fired.  If  you 
ever  come  back,  I'll  have  you  kicked  off  the 
place." 

"You  don't  dare  fire  me,"  the  man  said, 
coming  nearer.  "  You'll  have  to  take  me  back 
to-morrow." 

"  I'm  through  talking  with  you,"  said  Ban- 
non, still  quietly.  "  The  faster  you  can  light 
out  of  here  the  better." 

"  We'll  see  about  that.  You  can't  come  it 
on  the  union  that  way " 

Then,  without  any  preparatory  gesture 
whatever,  Bannon  knocked  him  down.  The 
man  seemed  to  fairly  rebound  from  the  floor. 


130  Calumet  ''K" 

He  rushed  at  the  boss,  but  before  he  could  come 
within  striking  distance,  Bannon  whipped  out 
a  revolver  and  dropped  it  level  with  Reilly's 
face. 

"  IVe  talked  to  you,"  he  said  slowly,  his 
eye  blazing  along  the  barrel,  "  and  IVe  knocked 
you  down.    But " 

The  man  staggered  back,  then  walked  away 
very  pale,  but  muttering.  Bannon  shoved  back 
the  revolver  into  his  hip  pocket.  "  It's  all 
right,  boys,"  he  said,  "  nothing  to  get  excited 
about." 

He  walked  to  the  edge  and  looked  over. 
"  We  can't  wait  to  pick  it  up  a  stick  at  a  time," 
he  said.  "  I'll  tell  'em  to  load  four  or  five  on 
each  larry.  Then  you  can  lift  the  whole 
bunch." 

"  We  run  some  chances  of  a  spill  or  a  break 
that  way,"  said  the  foreman. 

"  I  know  it,"  answered  Bannon,  dryly. 
"  That's  the  kind  of  chances  we'll  have  to  run 
for  the  next  two  months." 

Descending  to  the  ground,  he  gave  the  same 
order  to  the  men  below ;  then  he  sent  word  to 
Peterson  and  Vogel  that  he  wished  to  see  them 
in  the  office.    He  wiped  his  feet  on  the  mat, 


"I've  talked  to  you,"  he  said,  .  .  .  "and  i've  knockep 
you  down.    but  —  " 


Calumet  ''K"  131 

glancing  at  Hilda  as  he  did  so,  but  she  was 
hard  at  work  and  did  not  look  up.  He  took 
the  one  unoccupied  chair  and  placed  it  where 
he  could  watch  the  burnished  light  in  her  red 
hair.     Presently  she  turned  toward  him. 

"  Did  you  want  something?  "  she  asked. 

"  Excuse  me.     I  guess  —  I " 

In  the  midst  of  his  embarrassment,  Max  and 
Pete  came  in.  "  I've  got  a  couple  of  letters  I 
want  to  talk  over  with  you  boys,"  he  said. 
"  That's  why  I  sent  for  you." 

Pete  laughed  and  vaulted  to  a  seat  on  the 
draughting-table.  "  I  was  most  afraid  to 
come,"  he  said.  "  I  heard  you  drawed  a  gun 
on  that  fellow,  Reilly.  What  was  he  doing  to 
make  you  mad  ?  " 

"  Nothing  much." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  you  fired  him.  He's  made 
trouble  right  along.  How'd  it  happen  you  had 
a  gun  with  you  ?    Do  you  always  carry  one  ?  " 

"  Haven't  been  without  one  on  a  job  since 
I've  worked  for  the  old  man." 

"  Well,"  said  Pete,  straightening  up,  "  I've 
never  so  much  as  owned  one,  and  I  never  want 
to.  I  don't  like  'em.  If  my  fists  ain't  good 
enough  to  take  care  of  me  against  any  fellow 


132  Calumet  *'K*' 

that  comes  along,  why,  he's  welcome  to  lick 
me,  that's  all." 

Hilda  glanced  at  him,  and  for  a  moment  her 
eyes  rested  on  his  figure.  There  was  not  a 
line  of  it  but  showed  grace  and  strength  and  a 
magnificent  confidence.  Then,  as  if  for  the 
contrast,  she  looked  at  Bannon.  He  had  been 
watching  her  all  the  while,  and  he  seemed  to 
guess  her  thought. 

"  That's  all  right,"  he  said  in  answer  to  Pe- 
terson, "  when  it's  just  you  and  him  and  a 
fellow  to  hold  your  coats.  But  it  don't  always 
begin  that  way.  I've  been  in  places  where 
things  got  pretty  miscellaneous  sometimes,  but 
I  never  had  a  man  come  up  and  say : '  Mr.  Ban- 
non, I'm  going  to  lick  you.  Any  time  when 
you're  ready.'  There's  generally  from  three  to 
thirty,  and  they  all  try  to  get  on  your  back." 

Peterson  laughed  reminiscently.  "  I  was  an 
attendant  in  the  insane  ward  of  the  Massachu- 
setts General  Hospital  for  a  while,  and  one 
time  when  I  wasn't  looking  for  it,  twenty-four 
of  those  lunatics  all  jumped  on  me  at  once. 
They  got  me  on  the  floor  and  'most  killed  me." 
He  paused,  as  though  there  was  nothing  more 
to  tell. 


Calumet  "A'"  133 

"  Don't  stop  there,"  said  Max. 

"  Why,"  he  went  on,  "  I  crawled  along  the 
floor  till  I  got  to  a  chair,  and  I  just  knocked 
'em  around  with  that  till  they  was  quiet." 

Bannon  looked  at  his  watch;  then  he  took 
Brown's  letter  from  his  pocket.  "  It's  from  the 
office,"  he  said.  "  We've  got  to  have  the  bins 
full  before  New  Year's  Day.*' 

"  Got  to !  "  exclaimed  Pete.  "  I  don't  see  it 
that  way.    We  can't  do  it." 

"  Can  or  can't,  that  don't  interest  MacBride 
a  bit.    He  says  it's  got  to  be  done  and  it  has." 

"  Why,  he  can't  expect  us  to  do  it.  He  didn't 
say  anything  about  January  first  to  me.  / 
didn't  know  it  was  a  rush  job.  And  then  we 
played  in  hard  luck,  too,  before  you  came. 
That  cribbing  being  tied  up,  for  instance.  He 
certainly  can't  blame  us  if " 

"  That's  got  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  Bannon 
cut  in  shortly.  "  He  don't  pay  us  to  make  ex- 
cuses ;  he  pays  us  to  do  as  we're  told.  When  I 
have  to  begin  explaining  to  MacBride  why  it 
can't  be  done,  I'll  send  my  resignation  along  in 
a  separate  envelope  and  go  to  peddling  a  cure 
for  corns.  What  we  want  to  talk  about  is  how 
we're  going  to  do  it." 


134  Calumet  "A"" 

Peterson  flushed,  but  said  nothing,  and  Ban- 
non  went  on :  "  Now,  here's  what  we've  got  to 
do.  We've  got  to  frame  the  cupola  and  put  on 
the  roof  and  sheathe  the  entire  house  with  gal- 
vanized iron;  we've  got  to  finish  the  spouting 
house  and  sheathe  that ;  we've  got  to  build  the 
belt  gallery  —  and  we'll  have  no  end  of  a  time 
doing  it  if  the  C.  &  S.  C.  is  still  looking  for 
trouble.  Then  there's  all  the  machinery  to 
erect  and  the  millwright  work  to  do.  And 
we've  got  to  build  the  annex." 

"  I  thought  you  was  going  to  forget  that," 
said  Pete.    "  That's  the  worst  job  of  all." 

"  No,  it  ain't.  It's  the  easiest.  It'll  build  it- 
self. It's  just  a  case  of  two  and  two  makes 
four.  All  you've  got  to  do  is  spike  down  two- 
inch  planks  till  it's  done,  and  then  clap  on  some 
sort  of  a  roof.  There's  no  machinery,  no  de- 
tails, just  straight  work.  It's  just  a  question  of 
having  the  lumber  to  do  it  with,  and  we've  got 
it  now.  It's  the  little  work  that  can  raise 
Ned  with  you.  There  is  more  than  a  million 
little  things  that  any  man  ought  to  do  in  half 
an  hour,  but  if  one  of  'em  goes  wrong,  it  may 
hold  you  up  for  all  day.  Now,  I  figure  the 
business  this  way." 


Calumet  "^"  135 

He  took  a  memorandum  from  his  pocket 
and  began  reading.  There  was  very  Httle 
guesswork  about  it ;  he  had  set  down  as  nearly 
as  possible  the  amount  of  labor  involved  in 
each  separate  piece  of  construction,  and  the 
number  of  men  who  could  work  on  it  at  once. 
Allowing  for  the  different  kinds  of  work  that 
could  be  done  simultaneously,  he  made  out  a 
total  of  one  hundred  and  twenty  days. 

"  Well,  that's  all  right,  I  guess,''  said  Pete, 
"  but  you  see  that  takes  us  way  along  into  next 
year  sometime." 

"  About  March  first,"  said  Max. 

"  You  haven't  divided  by  three  yet,"  said 
Bannon.  "  We'll  get  three  eight-hour  days 
into  every  twenty-four  hours,  and  twenty-one 
of  'em  into  every  week." 

"  Why,  that's  better  than  we  need  to  do," 
said  Pete,  after  a  moment.  "  That  gets  us 
about  two  weeks  ahead  of  time." 

"  Did  you  ever  get  through  when  you 
thought  you  would  ?  "  Bannon  demanded.  "  I 
never  did.  Don't  you  know  that  you  always 
get  hit  by  something  you  ain't  looking  for? 
I'm  figuring  in  our  hard-luck  margin,  that's  all. 
There  are  some  things  I  am  looking  for,  too. 


136  Calumet  ''K" 

We'll  have  a  strike  here  before  we  get 
through." 

"  Oh,  I  guess  not,"  said  Pete,  easily. 
"  You're  still  thinking  of  Reilly,  aren't 
you." 

"  And  for  another  thing,  Page  &  Company 
are  likely  to  spring  something  on  us  at  the  last 
moment." 

"What  sort  of  thing?" 

"  If  I  knew  I'd  go  ahead  and  build  it  now, 
but  I  don't." 

"  How  are  you  going  to  work  three  gangs  ? 
Who'll  look  after 'em?" 

"  One  of  us  has  got  to  stay  up  nights,  I 
guess,"  said  Bannon.  "  We'll  have  to  get  a 
couple  of  boys  to  help  Max  keep  time.  It  may 
take  us  a  day  or  two  to  get  the  good  men  di- 
vided up  and  the  thing  to  running  properly, 
but  we  ought  to  be  going  full  blast  by  the  first 
of  the  week." 

He  arose  and  buttoned  his  coat.  "  You  two 
know  the  men  better  than  I  do.  I  wish  you'd 
go  through  the  pay  roll  and  pick  out  the  best 
men  and  find  out,  if  you  can,  who'll  work 
nights  at  regular  night  wages." 

Peterson  came  out  of  the  office  with  him. 


Calumet  "^^  137 

"  I  suppose  you'll  put  me  in  the  night  gang/* 
he  said. 

"  I  haven't  decided  yet  what  I'll  do." 

"  When  I  came  by  the  main  hoist,"  Pete 
went  on,  "  they  was  picking  up  four  and  five 
sticks  at  once.  I  stopped  'em,  and  they  said  it 
was  your  orders.  You'll  come  to  smash  that 
way,  sure  as  a  gun." 

"  Not  if  they  don't  take  more  than  I  told  'em 
to  and  if  they're  careful.  They  have  to  do  it 
to  keep  up  with  the  carpenters." 

"  Well,  it's  running  a  big  risk,  that's  all.  I 
don't  like  it." 

"  My  God,  don't  I  know  it's  a  risk !  Do  you 
suppose  I  like  it  ?  We've  got  something  to  do, 
and  we've  got  to  do  it  somehow." 

Pete  laughed  uneasily.  "I  —  I  told  *em  not 
to  pick  up  more  than  two  sticks  at  a  time  till 
they  heard  from  me." 

"  I  think,"  said  Bannon,  with  a  look  that  was 
new  to  Pete,  "  I  think  you'd  better  go  as  fast  as 
you  can  and  tell  them  to  go  on  as  they  were 
when  you  found  them." 

Late  on  Tuesday  afternoon  the  hoist  broke. 
It  was  not  easy  to  get  from  the  men  a  clear  ac- 
count of  the  accident.    The  boss  of  the  gang 


138  Calumet  "^" 

denied  that  he  had  carried  more  of  a  load  than 
Bannon  had  authorized,  but  some  of  the  talk 
among  the  men  indicated  the  contrary.  Only 
one  man  was  injured  and  he  not  fatally,  a  piece 
of  almost  miraculous  good  luck.  Some  scaf- 
folding was  torn  down  and  a  couple  of  timbers 
badly  sprung,  but  the  total  damage  was  really 
slight. 

Bannon  in  person  superintended  rigging  the 
new  hoist.  It  was  ready  for  work  within  two 
hours  after  the  accident.  "  She's  guyed  a  little 
better  than  the  other  was,  I  think,"  said  Ban- 
non to  the  foreman.  "  You  won't  have  any 
more  trouble.    Go  ahead." 

"How  about  the  load?" 

"  Carry  the  same  load  as  before.  You 
weren't  any  more  than  keeping  up." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Five  minutes  after  the  noon  whistle  blew, 
on  Saturday,  every  carpenter  and  laborer  knew 
that  Bannon  had  "  pulled  a  gun  "  on  Reilly. 
Those  who  heard  it  last  heard  more  than  that, 
for  when  the  story  had  passed  through  a  few 
hands  it  was  bigger  and  it  took  longer  to  tell. 
And  every  man,  during  the  afternoon,  kept  his 
eyes  more  closely  on  his  work.  Some  were  an- 
gry, but  these  dropped  from  muttering  into 
sullenness;  the  majority  were  relieved,  for  a 
good  workman  is  surer  of  himself  under  a  firm 
than  under  a  slack  hand;  but  all  were  cowed. 
And  Bannon,  when  after  dinner  he  looked  over 
the  work,  knew  more  about  all  of  them  and 
their  feelings,  perhaps,  than  they  knew  them- 
selves. He  knew,  too,  that  the  incident  might 
in  the  long  run  make  trouble.  But  trouble  was 
likely  in  any  case,  and  it  was  better  to  meet  it 
139 


I40  Calumet  ''K** 

after  he  had  established  his  authority  than 
while  discipline  was  at  loose  ends. 

But  Hilda  and  Max  were  disappointed. 
They  were  in  the  habit  of  talking  over  the  in- 
cidents and  problems  of  the  day  every  night 
after  supper.  And  while  Hilda,  as  Max  used 
to  say,  had  a  mind  of  her  own,  she  had  fallen 
into  the  habit  of  seeing  things  much  as  Max 
saw  them.  Max  had  from  the  start  admired, 
in  his  boyish  way,  Peterson's  big  muscles  and 
his  easy  good  nature.  He  had  been  the  first  to 
catch  the  new  spirit  that  Bannon  had  got  into 
the  work,  but  it  was  more  the  outward  activity 
that  he  could  understand  and  admire  than 
Bannon's  finer  achievements  in  organization. 
Like  Hilda,  he  did  not  see  the  difference  be- 
tween dropping  a  hammer  down  a  bin  and 
overloading  a  hoist.  Bannon's  distinction 
between  running  risks  in  order  to  push  the 
work  and  using  caution  in  minor  matters  was 
not  recognized  in  their  talks.  And  as  Bannon 
was  not  in  the  habit  of  giving  his  reasons,  the 
misunderstanding  grew.  But  more  than  all 
Max  felt,  and  in  a  way  Hilda  felt,  too,  that 
Peterson  would  never  have  found  it  necessary 
to  use  a  revolver;  his  fists  would  have  been 


Calumet  "^"  141 

enough  for  a  dozen  Reillys.  Max  did  not  tell 
Hilda  about  all  the  conversations  he  and  Peter- 
son had  had  during  the  last  week,  for  they 
were  confidential.  Peterson  had  never  been 
without  a  confidant,  and  though  he  still  shared 
a  room  with  Bannon,  he  could  not  talk  his 
mind  out  with  him.  Max,  who  to  Bannon  was 
merely  an  unusually  capable  lumber-checker, 
was  to  Peterson  a  friend  and  adviser.  And 
though  Max  tried  to  defend  Bannon  when  Pe- 
terson fell  into  criticism  of  the  way  the  work 
was  going,  he  was  influenced  by  it. 

During  the  few  days  after  the  accident  Hilda 
was  so  deeply  distressed  about  the  injured  man 
that  Max  finally  went  to  see  him. 

"  He's  pretty  well  taken  care  of,"  he  said 
when  he  returned.  "  There's  some  ribs  broken, 
he  says,  and  a  little  fever,  but  it  ain't  serious. 
He's  got  a  couple  of  sneaking  little  lawyers 
around  trying  to  get  him  to  sue  for  damages, 
but  I  don't  think  he'll  do  it.  The  Company's 
giving  him  full  pay  and  all  his  doctor's  bills." 

Nearly  every  evening  after  that  Max  took 
him  some  little  delicacy.  Hilda  made  him 
promise  that  he  would  not  tell  who  sent  them. 

Bannon  had  quickly  caught  the  changed  at- 


142  Calumet  '*K" 

titude  toward  him,  and  for  several  days  kept 
his  own  counsel.  But  one  morning,  after  dic- 
tating some  letters  to  Hilda,  he  lingered. 

"  How's  our  fund  getting  on  ?  "  he  said, 
smiling.    "  Have  you  looked  lately  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  "  I  haven't." 

He  leaned  over  the  railing  and  opened  the 
box. 

"  It's  coming  slow,"  he  said,  shaking  his 
head.  "  Are  you  sure  nobody's  been  getting 
away  from  us  ?  " 

Hilda  was  seated  before  the  typewriter.  She 
turned  partly  around,  without  taking  her  fin- 
gers from  the  keys. 

"  I  don't  know,"  she  said  quietly.  "  I  haven't 
been  watching  it." 

"  We'll  have  to  be  stricter  about  it,"  said 
Bannon.  "  These  fellows  have  got  to  under- 
stand that  rules  are  rules." 

He  spoke  with  a  little  laugh,  but  the  remark 
was  unfortunate.  The  only  men  who  came 
within  the  railing  were  Max  and  Peterson. 

"  I  may  have  forgotten  it,  myself,"  she  said. 

"  That  won't  do,  you  know.  I  don't  know 
but  what  I  can  let  you  off  this  time  —  I'll  tell 
you  what  I'll  do,  Miss  Vogel :  I'll  make  a  new 


Calumet  "^"  143 

rule  that  you  can  come  in  without  wiping  your 
feet  if  you'll  hand  in  a  written  excuse.  That's 
the  way  they  did  things  when  I  went  to  school." 
He  turned  to  go,  then  hesitated  again.  "  You 
haven't  been  out  on  the  job  yet,  have  you?  " 

"  No,  I  haven't." 

"  I  rather  think  you'd  like  it.  It's  pretty 
work,  now  that  we're  framing  the  cupola.  If 
you  say  so,  I'll  fix  it  for  you  to  go  up  to  the  dis- 
tributing floor  this  afternoon." 

She  looked  back  at  the  machine. 

"  The  view  ain't  bad,"  he  went  on,  "  when 
you  get  up  there.  You  can  see  down  into  In- 
diana, and  all  around.  You  could  see  all  Chi- 
cago, too,  if  it  wasn't  for  the  smoke." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence. 

"Why,  yes,  Mr.  Bannon,"  she  said;  "I'd 
like  to  go  very  much." 

"  All  right,"  he  replied,  his  smile  returning. 
"  I'll  guarantee  to  get  you  up  there  somehow, 
if  I  have  to  build  a  stairway.  Ninety  feet's 
pretty  high,  you  know." 

When  Bannon  reached  the  elevator  he  stood 
for  a  moment  in  the  well  at  the  west  end  of 
the  structure.  This  well,  or  "  stairway  bin," 
sixteen  by  thirty-two  feet,  and  open  from  the 


144  Calumet  **K*' 

ground  to  the  distributing  floor,  occupied  the 
space  of  two  bins.  It  was  here  that  the  stair- 
way would  be,  and  the  passenger  elevator,  and 
the  rope-drive  for  the  transmission  of  power 
from  the  working  to  the  distributing  floor. 
The  stairway  was  barely  indicated  by  rude 
landings.  For  the  present  a  series  of  eight  lad- 
ders zigzagged  up  from  landing  to  landing. 
Bannon  began  climbing;  halfway  up  he  met 
Max,  who  was  coming  down,  time  book  in 
hand. 

"  Look  here,  Max,"  he  said,  "  we're  going  to 
have  visitors  this  afternoon.  If  you've  got  a 
little  extra  time  I'd  like  to  have  you  help  get 
things  ready." 

"  All  right,"  Max  replied.  "  I'm  not  crowded 
very  hard  to-day." 

"  I've  asked  your  sister  to  come  up  and  see 
the  framing." 

Max  glanced  down  between  the  loose  boards 
on  the  landing. 

"  I  don't  know,"  he  said  slowly;  "  I  don't  be- 
lieve she  could  climb  up  here  very  well." 

"  She  won't  have  to.  I'm  going  to  put  in  a 
passenger  elevator,  and  carry  her  up  as  grand 
as  the  Palmer  House.    You  put  in  your  odd 


Calumet  ''K"  145 

minutes  between  now  and  three  o'clock  making 
a  box  that's  big  and  strong  enough." 

Max  grinned. 

"  Say,  that's  all  right.  She'll  like  that.  I 
can  do  most  of  it  at  noon." 

Bannon  nodded  and  went  on  up  the  ladders. 
At  the  distributing  floor  he  looked  about  for  a 
long  timber,  and  had  the  laborers  lay  it  across 
the  well  opening.  The  ladders  and  landings 
occupied  only  about  a  third  of  the  space;  the 
rest  was  open,  a  clear  drop  of  eighty  feet. 

At  noon  he  found  Max  in  an  open  space  be- 
hind the  office,  screwing  iron  rings  into  the 
comers  of  a  stout  box.  Max  glanced  up  and 
laughed. 

"  I  made  Hilda  promise  not  to  come  out 
here,"  he  said.  He  waved  his  hand  toward  the 
back  wall  of  the  office.  Bannon  saw  that  he 
had  nailed  strips  over  the  larger  cracks  and 
knot  holes.  "  She  was  peeking,  but  I  shut 
that  off  before  I'd  got  very  far  along.  I  don't 
think  she  saw  what  it  was.  I  only  had  part  of 
the  frame  done." 

"  She'll  be  coming  out  in  a  minute,"  said 
Bannon. 

"  I  know.    I  thought  of  that."    Max  threw 


146  Calumet  **K** 

an  armful  of  burlap  sacking  over  the  box. 
"  That'll  cover  it  up  enough.  I  guess  it's  time 
to  quit,  anyway,  if  I'm  going  to  get  any  dinner. 
There's  a  little  square  of  carpet  up  to  the  house 
that  I'm  going  to  get  for  the  bottom,  and  we 
can  run  pieces  of  half-inch  rope  from  the  rings 
up  to  a  hook,  and  sling  it  right  on  the  hoist." 

"  It's  not  going  on  the  hoist,"  said  Bannon. 
"  I  wouldn't  stop  the  timbers  for  Mr.  MacBride 
himself.  When  you  go  back,  you'll  see  a  tim- 
ber on  the  top  of  the  well.  I'd  like  you  to  sling 
a  block  under  it  and  run  an  inch-and-a-quarter 
rope  through.    We'll  haul  it  up  from  below/' 

"What  power?" 

"  Man  power." 

"All  right,  Mr.  Bannon.  I'll  see  to  it. 
There's  Hilda  now." 

He  called  to  her  to  wait  while  he  got  his 
coat,  and  then  the  two  disappeared  across  the 
tracks.  Hilda  had  bowed  to  Bannon,  but  with- 
out the  smile  and  the  nod  that  he  liked.  He 
looked  after  her  as  if  he  would  follow ;  but  he 
changed  his  mind,  and  waited  a  few  minutes. 

The  "  elevator  "  was  ready  soon  after  the 
afternoon's  work  had  commenced.  Bannon 
found  time  between  two  and  three  o'clock  to 


Calumet  ''K**  147 

inspect  the  tackle.  He  picked  up  an  end  of 
rope  and  lashed  the  cross  timber  down  securely. 
Then  he  went  down  the  ladders  and  found 
Max,  who  had  brought  the  carpet  for  the  box 
and  was  looking  over  his  work.  The  rope 
led  up  to  the  top  of  the  well  through  a  pulley 
and  then  back  to  the  working  floor  and  through 
another  pulley,  so  that  the  box  could  be  hoisted 
from  below. 

"  It's  all  ready,"  said  Max.     "  It'll  run  up 
as  smooth  as  you  want." 

"  You'd  better  go  for  your  sister,   then," 
Bannon  replied. 
Max  hesitated. 

"  You  meant  for  me  to  bring  her  ?  " 
"  Yes,  I  guess  you  might  as  well." 
Bannon  stood  looking  after  Max  as  he 
walked  along  the  railroad  track  out  into  the 
open  air.  Then  he  glanced  up  between  the 
smooth  walls  of  cribbing  that  seemed  to  draw 
closer  and  closer  together  until  they  ended,  far 
overhead,  in  a  rectangle  of  blue  sky.  The  beam 
across  the  top  was  a  black  line  against  the  light. 
The  rope,  hanging  from  it,  swayed  lazily.  He 
walked  around  the  box,  examining  the  rings 
and  the  four  corner  ropes,  and  testing  them. 


148  Calumet  "iT" 

Hilda  was  laughing  when  she  came  with 
Max  along  the  track.  Bannon  could  not  see 
her  at  first  for  the  intervening  rows  of  timbers 
that  supported  the  bins.  Then  she  came  into 
view  through  an  opening  between  two  "  bents  " 
of  timber,  beyond  a  heap  of  rubbish  that  had 
been  thrown  at  one  side  of  the  track.  She  was 
trying  to  walk  on  the  rail,  one  arm  thrown  out 
to  balance,  the  other  resting  across  Max's 
shoulders.  Her  jacket  was  buttoned  snugly 
up  to  the  chin,  and  there  was  a  fresh  color  in 
her  face. 

Bannon  had  called  in  three  laborers  to  man 
the  rope;  they  stood  at  one  side,  awaiting  the 
order  to  haul  away.  He  found  a  block  of 
wood,  and  set  it  against  the  box  for  a  step. 

"  This  way.  Miss  Vogel,"  he  called.  "  The 
elevator  starts  in  a  minute.  You  came  pretty 
near  being  late." 

"  Am  I  going  to  get  in  that  ?  "  she  asked ; 
and  she  looked  up,  with  a  little  gasp,  along  the 
dwindling  rope. 

"  Here,''  said  Max,  "  don't  you  say  noth- 
ing against  that  elevator.  I  call  it  pretty 
grand." 

She  stood  on  the  block,  holding  to  one  of 


Calumet  '"K*"  149 

the  ropes,  and  looking  alternately  into  the  box 
and  up  to  the  narrow  sky  above  them. 

"  It's  awfully  high,"  she  said.  "  Is  that  lit- 
tle stick  up  there  all  that's  going  to  hold  me 
up?" 

"  That  little  stick  is  ten-by-twelve,"  Max  re- 
plied. "  It  would  hold  more'n  a  dozen  of 
you." 

She  laughed,  but  still  hesitated.  She  lowered 
her  eyes  and  looked  about  the  great  dim  space 
of  the  w^orking  story  with  its  long  aisles  and  its 
solid  masses  of  timber.  Suddenly  she  turned 
to  Bannon,  who  was  standing  at  her  side,  wait- 
ing to  give  her  a  hand. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Bannon,"  she  said,  "  are  you  sure 
it's  strong  enough  ?    It  doesn't  look  safe." 

"  I  think  it's  safe,"  he  replied  quietly.  He 
vaulted  into  the  box  and  signalled  to  the  labor- 
ers. Hilda  stepped  back  off  the  block  as  he 
went  up  perhaps  a  third  of  the  way,  and  then 
came  down.  She  said  nothing,  but  stepped  on 
the  block. 

"  How  shall  I  get  in  ?  "  she  asked,  laughing 
a  little,  but  not  looking  at  Bannon. 

"  Here,"  said  Bannon,  "  give  us  each  a  hand. 
A  little  jump'll  do  it.    Max  here'll  go  along  the 


ISO  Calumet  *'K** 

ladders  and  steady  you  if  you  swing  too  much. 
Wait  a  minute,  though."  He  hurried  out  of 
doors,  and  returned  with  a  hght  line,  one  end 
of  which  he  made  fast  to  the  box,  the  other  he 
gave  to  Max. 

"  Now,"  he  said,  "  you  can  guide  it  as  nice 
as  walking  upstairs." 

They  started  up,  Hilda  sitting  in  the  box 
and  holding  tightly  to  the  sides.  Max  climbing 
the  ladders  with  the  end  of  the  line  about  his 
wrist.  Bannon  joined  the  laborers,  and  kept  a 
hand  on  the  hoisting  rope. 

"  You'd  better  not  look  down,"  he  called 
after  her. 

^  She  laughed  and  shook  her  head.  Bannon 
waited  until  they  had  reached  the  top,  and 
Max  had  lifted  her  out  on  the  last  landing; 
then,  at  Max's  shout,  he  made  the  rope  fast  and 
followed  up  the  ladders. 

He  found  them  waiting  for  him  near  the  top 
of  the  well. 

"  We  might  as  well  sit  down,"  he  said.  He 
led  the  way  to  a  timber  a  few  steps  away.. 
"  Well,  Miss  Vogel,  how  do  you  like  it  ?  " 

She  was  looking  eagerly  about ;  at  the  frame, 
a  great  skeleton  of  new  timber,  some  of  it  still 


Calumet  "K'*  151 

holding  so  much  of  the  water  of  river  and  mill- 
yard  that  it  glistened  in  the  sunlight;  at  the 
moving  groups  of  men,  the  figure  of  Peterson 
standing  out  above  the  others  on  a  high  girder, 
his  arms  knotted,  and  his  neck  bare,  though  the 
day  was  not  warm;  at  the  straining  hoist, 
trembling  with  each  new  load  that  came  swing- 
ing from  somewhere  below,  to  be  hustled  off 
to  its  place,  stick  by  stick ;  and  then  out  into  the 
west,  where  the  November  sun  was  dropping, 
and  around  at  the  hazy  flats  and  the  strip  of  a 
river.  She  drew  in  her  breath  quickly,  and 
looked  up  at  Bannon  with  a  nervous  little  ges- 
ture. 

"  I  like  it,"  she  finally  said,  after  a  long  si- 
lence, during  which  they  had  watched  a  big 
stick  go  up  on  one  of  the  small  hoists,  to  be 
swung  into  place  and  driven  home  on  the  dowel 
pins  by  Peterson's  sledge. 

"Isn't  Pete  a  hummer?"  said  Max.  "I 
never  yet  saw  him  take  hold  of  a  thing  that  was 
too  much  for  him." 

Neither  Hilda  nor  Bannon  replied  to  this, 
and  there  was  another  silence. 

"  Would  you  like  to  walk  around  and  see 
things  closer  to?"  Bannon  asked,  turning  to 
Miss  Vogel. 


152  Calumet  ''K** 

"  I  wouldn't  mind.  It's  rather  cold,  sitting 
still." 

He  led  the  way  along  one  side  of  the  struc- 
ture, guiding  her  carefully  in  places  where  the 
flooring  was  not  yet  secure. 

"  I'm  glad  you  came  up,"  he  said.  "  A  good 
many  people  think  there's  nothing  in  this  kind 
of  work  but  just  sawing  wood  and  making 
money  for  somebody  up  in  Minneapolis.  But 
it  isn't  that  way.  It's  pretty,  and  sometimes 
it's  exciting;  and  things  happen  every  little 
while  that  are  interesting  enough  to  tell  to  any- 
body, if  people  only  knew  it.  I'll  have  you 
come  up  a  little  later,  when  we  get  the  house 
built  and  the  machinery  coming  in.  That's 
when  we'll  have  things  really  moving.  There'll 
be  some  fun  putting  up  the  belt  gallery,  too. 
That'll  be  over  here  on  the  other  side." 

He  turned  to  lead  the  way  across  the  floor  to 
the  north  side  of  the  building.  They  had 
stopped  a  little  way  from  the  boom  hoist,  and 
she  was  standing  motionless,  watching  as  the 
boom  swung  out  and  the  rope  rattled  to  the 
ground.  There  was  the  puffing  of  the  engine 
far  below,  the  straining  of  the  rope,  and  the 
creaking  of  the  blocks  as  the  heavy  load  came 


Calumet  **K'*  1 53 

slowly  up.  Gangs  of  men  were  waiting  to  take 
the  timbers  the  moment  they  reached  the  floor. 
The  foreman  of  the  hoist  gang  was  leaning 
out  over  the  edge,  looking  down  and  shouting 
orders. 

Hilda  turned  with  a  little  start  and  saw  that 
Bannon  was  waiting  for  her.  Following  him, 
she  picked  her  way  between  piles  of  planks  and 
timber,  and  between  groups  of  laborers  and 
carpenters,  to  the  other  side.  Now  they  could 
look  down  at  the  four  tracks  of  the  C.  &  S.  C, 
the  unfinished  spouting  house  on  the  wharf, 
and  the  river. 

"  Here's  where  the  belt  gallery  will  go,"  he 
said,  pointing  downward :  "  right  over  the 
tracks  to  the  spouting  house.  They  carry  the 
grain  on  endless  belts,  you  know/^ 

"  Doesn't  it  ever  fall  off?" 

"  Not  a  kernel.  It's  pretty  to  watch.  When 
she  gets  to  running  we'll  come  up  some  day  and 
look  at  it." 

They  walked  slowly  back  toward  the  well. 
Before  they  reached  it  Peterson  and  Max 
joined  them.  Peterson  had  rolled  down  his 
sleeves  and  put  on  his  coat. 

"  You  ain't  going  down  now,  are  you  ?  "  he 


154  Calumet  ''K" 

said.  "  We'll  be  starting  in  pretty  soon  on 
some  of  the  heavy  framing.  This  is  just  put- 
ting in  girders." 

He  was  speaking  directly  to  Miss  Vogel,  but 
he  made  an  effort  to  include  Bannon  in  the  con- 
versation by  an  awkward  movement  of  his 
head.  This  stiffness  in  Peterson's  manner 
when  Bannon  was  within  hearing  had  been 
growing  more  noticeable  during  the  past  few 
days. 

"  Don't  you  think  of  going  yet,"  he  contin- 
ued, with  a  nervous  laugh,  for  Hilda  was  mov- 
ing on.  "  She  needn't  be  in  such  a  rush  to  get 
to  work,  eh,  Charlie?" 

Hilda  did  not  give  Bannon  a  chance  to  re- 
ply. 

"  Thank  you  very  much,  Mr.  Peterson,"  she 
said,  smiling,  "but  I  must  go  back,  really. 
Maybe  you'll  tell  me  some  day  when  you're 
going  to  do  something  special,  so  I  can  come 
up  again." 

Peterson's  disappointment  was  so  frankly 
shown  in  his  face  that  she  smiled  again.  "  I've 
enjoyed  it  very  much,"  she  said.  She  was  still 
looking  at  Peterson,  but  at  the  last  word  she 
turned  to  include  Bannon,  as  if  she  had  sud- 


Calumet  "K"  155 

denly  remembered  that  he  was  in  the  party. 
There  was  an  uncomfortable  feeHng,  shown 
by  all  in  their  silence  and  in  their  groping 
about  for  something  to  say. 

"  I'll  go  ahead  and  clear  the  track,"  said 
Bannon.  "  I'll  holler  up  to  you,  Max,  when 
we're  ready  down  below." 

"  Here,"  said  Max,  "  let  me  go  down." 

But  Bannon  had  already  started  down  the 
first  ladder. 

"  The  next  time  you  come  to  visit  us,  Miss 
Vogel,"  he  called  back,  "  I  guess  we'll  have  our 
real  elevator  in,  and  we  can  run  you  up  so  fast 
it'll  take  your  breath  away.  We'll  be  real  swells 
here  yet." 

When  he  reached  the  working  floor,  he  called 
in  the  laborers  and  shouted  to  Max.  But  when 
the  box,  slowly  descending,  appeared  below  the 
bin  walls,  it  was  Peterson  who  held  the  line 
and  chatted  with  Hilda  as  he  steadied  her. 

The  next  day  a  lot  of  cribbing  came  from 
Ledyard,  and  Bannon  at  once  set  about  reor- 
ganizing his  forces  so  that  work  could  go  on 
night  and  day.  He  and  Peterson  would  divide 
the  time  equally  into  twelve-hour  days;  but 
three  divisions  were  necessary  for  the  men,  the 


156  Calumet  "^" 

morning  shift  working  from  midnight  until 
eight  o'clock,  the  day  shift  from  eight  to  four, 
and  the  night  shift  from  four  to  midnight. 

Finally,  when  the  whistle  blew,  at  noon,  Ban- 
non  tipped  back  his  chair  and  pushed  his  hat 
back  on  his  head. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  that's  fixed." 

"  When  will  we  begin  on  it  ? "  Peterson 
asked. 

"  To-day.  Have  the  whistle  blow  at  four. 
It'll  make  some  of  the  men  work  overtime  to- 
day, but  we'll  pay  them  for  it." 

Miss  Vogel  was  putting  on  her  jacket.  Be- 
fore joining  Max,  who  was  waiting  at  the 
door,  she  asked :  — 

"  Do  you  want  me  to  make  any  change  in 
my  work,  Mr.  Bannon  ?  " 

"  No,  you'd  better  go  ahead  just  as  you  are. 
We  won't  try  to  cut  you  up  into  three  shifts 
yet  awhile.  We  can  do  what  letters  and  ac- 
counts we  have  in  the  daytime." 

She  nodded  and  left  the  office. 

All  through  the  morning's  work  Peterson 
had  worn  a  heavy,  puzzled  expression,  and  now 
that  they  had  finished,  he  seemed  unable  to 
throw  it  off.    Bannon,  who  had  risen  and  was 


Calumet  "iT"  157 

reaching  for  his  ulster,  which  he  had  thrown 
over  the  raiHng,  looked  around  at  him. 

"  You  and  I'll  have  to  make  twelve-hour 
days  of  it,  you  know,"  he  said.  He  knew,  from 
his  quick  glance  and  the  expression  almost  of 
relief  that  came  over  his  face,  that  this  was 
what  Peterson  had  been  waiting  for.  "  You'd 
better  come  on  in  the  evening,  if  if  s  all  the 
same  to  you  —  at  seven.  I'll  take  it  in  the 
morning  and  keep  an  eye  on  it  during  the  day." 

Peterson's  eyes  had  lowered  at  the  first 
words.  He  swung  one  leg  over  the  other  and 
picked  up  the  list  of  carpenters  that  Max  had 
made  out,  pretending  to  examine  it.  Bannon 
was  not  watching  him  closely,  but  he  could 
have  read  the  thoughts  behind  that  sullen  face. 
If  their  misunderstanding  had  arisen  from 
business  conditions  alone,  Bannon  would  have 
talked  out  plainly.  But  now  that  Hilda  had 
come  between  them,  and  particularly  that  it 
was  all  so  vague  —  a  matter  of  feeling,  and 
not  at  all  of  reason  —  he  had  decided  to  say 
nothing.  It  was  important  that  he  should  con- 
trol the  work  during  the  day,  and  coming  on 
at  seven  in  the  morning,  he  would  have  a  hand 
on  the  work  of  all  three  shifts.    He  knew  that 


158  Calumet  ''K" 

Peterson  would  not  see  it  reasonably;  that  he 
would  think  it  was  done  to  keep  him  away  from 
Hilda.  He  stood  leaning  against  the  gate  to 
keep  it  open,  buttoning  his  ulster. 

"  Coming  on  up  to  the  house,  Pete  ?  " 

Peterson  got  down  off  the  railing. 

"  So  you're  going  to  put  me  on  the  night 
shift,"  he  said,  almost  as  a  child  would  have 
said  it. 

"  I  guess  that's  the  way  it's  got  to  work  out," 
Bannon  replied.    "  Coming  up  ?  " 

"  No  —  not  yet.    I'll  be  along  pretty  soon." 

Bannon  started  toward  the  door,  but  turned 
with  a  snap  of  his  finger. 

"  Oh,  while  we're  at  it,  Pete  —  you'd  better 
tell  Max  to  get  those  men  to  keep  time  for  the 
night  shifts." 

"  You  mean  you  want  him  to  go  on  with  you 
in  the  daytime  ?  " 

"  That's  just  as  he  likes.  But  I  guess  he'll 
want  to  be  around  while  his  sister  is  here.  You 
see  about  that  after  lunch,  will  you  ?  " 

Peterson  came  in  while  Bannon  was  eating 
his  dinner  and  stayed  after  he  had  gone.  In 
the  evening,  when  he  returned  to  the  house  for 
his  supper,  after  arranging  with  Peterson  to 


Calumet  ''K"  159 

share  the  first  night's  work,  Bannon  found  that 
the  foreman's  clothes  and  grip  had  been  taken 
from  the  room.  On  the  stairs  he  met  the  land- 
lady, and  asked  her  if  Mr.  Peterson  had 
moved. 

"Yes,"  she  replied;  "he  took  his  things 
away  this  noon.  I'm  sorry  he's  gone,  for  he 
was  a  good  young  man.  He  never  give  me 
any  trouble  like  some  of  the  men  do  that's  been 
here.  The  trouble  with  most  of  them  is  that 
they  get  drunk  on  pay-days  and  come  home 
simply  disgusting." 

Bannon  passed  on  without  comment.  Dur- 
ing the  evening  he  saw  Peterson  on  the  distrib- 
uting floor,  helping  the  man  from  the  electric 
light  company  rig  up  a  new  arc  light.  His  ex- 
pression when  he  caught  sight  of  Bannon,  sul- 
len and  defiant,  yet  showing  a  great  effort  to 
appear  natural,  was  the  only  explanation 
needed  of  how  matters  stood  between  them. 

It  took  a  few  days  to  get  the  new  system  to 
running  smoothly  —  new  carpenters  and  labor- 
ers had  to  be  taken  on,  and  new  foremen 
worked  into  their  duties  —  but  it  proved  to  be 
less  difficult  than  Max  and  Hilda  had  supposed 
from  what  Peterson  had  to  say  about  the  con- 


l6o  Calumet  "AT" 

duct  of  the  work.  The  men  all  worked  better 
than  before;  each  new  move  of  Bannon's 
seemed  to  infuse  more  rigor  and  energy  into 
the  work ;  and  the  cupola  and  annex  began  rap- 
idly, as  Max  said,  "  to  look  like  something." 
Bannon  was  on  hand  all  day,  and  frequently 
during  a  large  part  of  the  night.  He  had  a 
way  of  appearing  at  any  hour  to  look  at  the 
work  and  keep  it  moving.  Max,  after  hearing 
the  day  men  repeat  what  the  night  men  had  to 
tell  of  the  boss  and  his  work,  said  to  his  sister : 
"  Honest,  Hilda,  I  don't  see  how  he  does  it.  I 
don't  believe  he  ever  takes  his  clothes  off." 


CHAPTER   IX 

The  direct  result  of  the  episode  with  the 
carpenter  Reilly  was  insignificant.  He  did  not 
attempt  to  make  good  his  boast  that  he  would 
be  back  at  work  next  day,  and  when  he  did 
appear,  on  Wednesday  of  the  next  week,  his 
bleared  eyes  and  dilapidated  air  made  the  rea- 
son plain  enough.  A  business  agent  of  his 
union  was  with  him;  Bannon  found  them  in 
the  office. 

He  nodded  to  the  delegate.  "  Sit  down,"  he 
said.  Then  he  turned  to  Reilly.  "  I  don't  ask 
you  to  do  the  same.  You're  not  wanted  on 
the  premises.  I  told  you  once  before  that  I 
was  through  talking." 

Reilly  started  to  reply,  but  his  companion 
checked  him.  "  That's  all  right,"  he  said.  "  I 
know  your  side  of  it.  Wait  for  me  up  by  the 
car  line." 

M  l6l 


1 62  Calumet  "^" 

When  Reilly  had  gone  Bannon  repeated  his 
invitation  to  sit  down. 

"  You  probably  know  why  Fve  come,"  the 
delegate  began.  "  Mr.  Reilly  has  charged  you 
with  treating  him  unjustly  and  with  drawing  a 
revolver  on  him.  Of  course,  in  a  case  like  this, 
we  try  to  get  at  both  sides  before  we  take  any 
action.  Would  you  give  me  your  account  of 
it?" 

Bannon  told  in  twenty  words  just  how  it 
had  happened.  The  agent  said  cautiously: 
*'  Reilly  told  another  story." 

"  I  suppose  so.  Now,  I  don't  ask  you  to  take 
my  word  against  his.  If  you'd  like  to  investi- 
gate the  business,  I'll  give  you  all  the  opportu- 
nity you  want." 

"  If  we  find  that  he  did  drop  the  hammer  by 
accident,  would  you  be  willing  to  take  him 
back?" 

Bannon  smiled.  "  There's  no  use  in  my  tell- 
ing you  what  I'll  do  till  you  tell  me  what  you 
want  me  to  do,  is  there  ?  " 

Bannon  held  out  his  hand  when  the  man  rose 
to  go. 

"  Any  time  you  think  there's  something 
wrong  out  here,  or  anything  you  don't  under- 


Calumet  "A'"  163 

stand,  come  out  and  we'll  talk  it  over.  I  treat 
a  man  as  well  as  I  can,  if  he's  square  with  me." 

He  walked  to  the  door  with  the  agent  and 
closed  it  after  him.  As  he  turned  back  to  the 
draughting  table,  he  found  Hilda's  eyes  on  him. 

"  They're  very  clean  chaps,  mostly,  those 
walking  delegates,"  he  said.  "  If  you  treat  'em 
half  as  well  as  you'd  treat  a  yellow  dog,  they're 
likely  to  be  very  reasonable.  If  one  of  'em  does 
happen  to  be  a  rascal,  though,  he's  meaner  to 
handle  than  frozen  dynamite.  I  expect  to  be 
white-headed  before  I'm  through  with  that 
man  Grady." 

"  Is  he  a  rascal?  "  she. asked. 

"  He's  as  bad  as  you  find  'em.  Even  if  he'd 
been  handled  right " 

Bannon  broke  off  abruptly  and  began  turn- 
ing over  the  blue  prints.  "  Suppose  I'd  better 
see  how  this  next  story  looks,"  he  said.  Hilda 
had  heard  how  Pete  had  dealt  with  Grady  at 
their  first  meeting,  and  she  could  complete  the 
broken  sentence. 

Bannon  never  heard  whether  the  agent  from 
the  carpenters'  union  had  looked  further  into 
Reilly's  case,  but  he  was  not  asked  to  take  him 
back  on  the  pay  roll.     But  that  was  not  the 


i64  Calumet  ''K^ 

end  of  the  incident.  Coming  out  on  the  dis- 
tributing floor  just  before  noon  on  Thursday, 
he  found  Grady  in  the  act  of  delivering  an  im- 
passioned oration  to  the  group  of  laborers 
about  the  hoist.  Before  Grady  saw  him,  Ban- 
non  had  come  near  enough  to  hear  something 
about  being  "  driven  at  the  point  of  a  pistol." 

The  speech  came  suddenly  to  an  end  when 
Grady,  following  the  glances  of  his  auditors, 
turned  and  saw  who  was  coming.  Bannon 
noted  with  satisfaction  the  scared  look  of  ap- 
peal which  he  turned,  for  a  second,  toward  the 
men.  It  was  good  to  know  that  Grady  was 
something  of  a  coward. 

Bannon  nodded  to  him  pleasantly  enough. 
"  How  are  you,  Grady  ?  "  he  said. 

Seeing  that  he  was  in  no  danger,  the  dele- 
gate threw  back  his  shoulders,  held  up  his  head, 
and,  frowning  in  an  important  manner,  he  re- 
turned Bannon's  greeting  with  the  scantest 
civility. 

Bannon  walked  up  and  stood  beside  him. 
"  If  you  can  spare  the  time,"  he  said  politely, 
"  I'd  like  to  see  you  at  the  office  for  a  while." 

Convinced  now  that  Bannon  was  doing 
everything   in   his   power   to   conciliate   him. 


Catutnet  "^"  165 

Grady  grew  more  important.  "  Very  well/'  he 
said ;  "  when  I've  got  through  up  here,  ye  can 
see  me  if  ye  like." 

"All  right,"  said  Bannon,  patiently;  "no 
hurry." 

During  the  full  torrent  of  Grady's  eloquence 
the  work  had  not  actually  been  interrupted. 
The  big  boom  bearing  its  load  of  timber  swept 
in  over  the  distributing  floor  with  unbroken 
regularity ;  but  the  men  had  worked  with  only 
half  their  minds  and  had  given  as  close  atten- 
tion as  they  dared  to  the  delegate's  fervid  utter- 
ances. But  from  the  moment  Bannon  appeared 
there  had  been  a  marked  change  in  the  attitude 
of  the  little  audience ;  they  steered  the  hoist  and 
canted  the  timbers  about  with  a  sudden  enthu- 
siasm which  made  Bannon  smile  a  little  as  he 
stood  watching  them. 

Grady  could  not  pump  up  a  word  to  say.  He 
cleared  his  throat  loudly  once  or  twice,  but  the 
men  ignored  him  utterly.  He  kept  casting  his 
shifty  little  sidewise  glances  at  the  boss,  won- 
dering why  he  didn't  go  away,  but  Bannon 
continued  to  stand  there,  giving  an  occasional 
direction,  and  watching  the  progress  of  the 
work  with  much  satisfaction.    The  little  dele- 


i66  Calumet  "iC" 

gate  shifted  his  weight  from  one  foot  to  the 
other  and  cleared  his  throat  again.  Then  he 
saw  that  two  or  three  of  the  men  were  grin- 
ning.   That  was  too  much. 

"  Well,  I'll  go  with  you,"  he  snapped. 

Bannon  could  not  be  sure  how  much  of  an 
impression  Grady's  big  words  and  his  ridicu- 
lous assumption  of  importance  had  made  upon 
the  men,  but  he  determined  to  counteract  it  as 
thoroughly  as  possible,  then  and  there.  It  was 
a  sort  of  gallery  play  that  he  had  decided  on, 
but  he  felt  sure  it  would  prove  effective. 

Grady  turned  to  go  down  as  he  ha'd  come  up, 
by  the  ladders,  but  Bannon  caught  him  by  the 
shoulder,  saying  with  a  laugh :  "  Oh,  don't 
waste  your  time  walking.  Take  the  elevator." 
His  tone  was  friendly  but  his  grip  was  like  a 
man-trap,  and  he  was  propelling  Grady  straight 
toward  the  edge  of  the  building.  Four  big  tim- 
bers had  just  come  up  and  Bannon  caught  the 
released  rope  as  it  came  trailing  by.  "  Here," 
he  said ;  "  put  your  foot  in  the  hook  and  hang 
on,  and  you'll  come  down  in  no  time." 

Grady  laughed  nervously.  "  No  you  don't. 
I  suppose  you'd  be  glad  to  get  rid  of  me  that 
way.    You  don't  come  that  on  me." 


Calumet  "AT"  167 

The  men  were  watching  with  interest;  Ban- 
non  raised  his  voice  a  Httle.  "  All  right,"  he 
said,  thrusting  his  foot  into  the  great  hook,  "  if 
you  feel  that  way  about  it.  We'll  have  a  regu- 
lar passenger  elevator  in  here  by  and  by,  with 
an  electric  bell  and  sliding  door,  for  the  capi- 
talist crowd  that  are  going  to  own  the  place. 
But  we  workingmen  get  along  all  right  on  this. 
Swing  off,  boys." 

He  waited  for  Grady  down  below.  It  mat- 
tered very  little  to  him  now  whether  the  walk- 
ing delegate  chose  to  follow  him  down  the  hoist 
or  to  walk  down  on  the  ladders,  for  every  one 
had  seen  that  Grady  was  afraid.  Bannon  had 
seen  all  the  men  grinning  broadly  as  he  began 
his  descent,  and  that  was  all  he  wanted. 

Evidently  Grady's  fear  of  the  rope  was  less 
than  his  dread  of  the  ridicule  of  the  men,  for 
Bannon  saw  him  preparing  to  come  down  after 
the  next  load.  He  took  a  long  time  getting 
ready,  but  at  last  they  started  him.  He  was 
the  color  of  a  handful  of  waste  when  he  reached 
the  ground,  and  he  staggered  as  he  walked  with 
Bannon  over  to  the  office.  He  dropped  into  a 
chair  and  rubbed  his  forehead  with  his  coat- 
sleeve. 


i68  Calumet  "K" 

"  Well,"  said  Bannon,  "  do  you  like  the  look 
of  things  ?  I  hope  you  didn't  find  anything  out 
of  the  way  ?  " 

"  Do  you  dare  ask  me  that  ?  "  Grady  began. 
His  voice  was  weak  at  first,  but  as  his  giddiness 
passed  away  it  arose  again  to  its  own  inimit- 
able oratorical  level.  "  Do  you  dare  pretend 
that  you  are  treating  these  men  right?  Who 
gave  you  the  right  to  decide  that  this  man  shall 
live  and  this  man  shall  die,  and  that  this  poor 
fellow  who  asks  no  more  than  to  be  allowed  to 
earn  his  honest  living  with  his  honest  sweat 
shall  be  stricken  down  with  two  broken  ribs  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Bannon.  "You're 
speaking  of  the  hoist  accident,  I  suppose.  Well, 
go  and  ask  that  man  if  he  has  any  complaint  to 
make.  If  he  has,  come  and  let  me  know  about 
it." 

"  They  call  this  a  free  country,  and  yet  you 
oppressors  can  compel  men  to  risk  their 
lives " 

"  Have  you  any  changes  to  suggest  in  the 
way  that  hoist  is  rigged  ? "  Bannon  cut  in 
quietly.  "  You've  been  inspecting  it.  What 
did  you  think  was  unsafe  about  it  ?  " 

Grady  was  getting  ready  for  his  next  out- 


Calumet  *'K''  169 

burst,  but  Bannon  prevented  him.  "  There 
ain't  many  jobs,  if  you  leave  out  tacking  down 
carpets,  where  a  man  don't  risk  his  Hfe  more  or 
less.  MacBride  don't  compel  men  to  risk  their 
lives;  he  pays  'em  for  doing  it,  and  you  can 
bet  he's  done  it  himself.  We  don't  like  it,  but 
it's  necessary.  Now,  if  you  saw  men  out  there 
taking  risks  that  you  think  are  unnecessary, 
why,  say  so,  and  we'll  talk  it  over." 

"  There's  another  thing  you've  got  to  answer 
for,  Mr.  Bannon.  These  are  free  men  that  are 
devoting  their  honest  labor  to  you.  You  may 
think  you're  a  slave  driver,  but  you  aren't. 
You  may  flourish  your  revolver  in  the  faces  of 
slaves,  but  free  American  citizens  will  resent 
it " 

"  Mr.  Grady,  the  man  I  drew  a  gun  on  was 
a  carpenter.  His  own  union  is  looking  after 
him.  He  had  thrown  a  hammer  down  into  a 
bin  where  some  of  your  laborers  were  at  work, 
so  I  acted  in  their  defence." 

Grady  stood  up.  "  I  come  here  to  give  you 
warning  to-day,  Mr.  Bannon.  There  is  a 
watchful  eye  on  you.  The  next  time  I  come  it 
will  not  be  to  warn,  but  to  act.  That's  all  Fve 
got  to  say  to  you  now." 


I70  Calumet  "JT" 

Bannon,  too,  was  on  his  feet.  "  Mr.  Grady, 
we  try  to  be  fair  to  our  men.  Ifs  your  busi- 
ness to  see  that  we  are  fair,  so  we  ought  to  get 
on  all  right  together.  After  this,  if  the  men 
lodge  any  complaint  with  you,  come  to  me; 
don't  go  out  on  the  job  and  make  speeches.  If 
you^re  looking  for  fair  play,  you'll  get  it.  If 
you're  looking  for  trouble,  you'll  get  it.  Good- 
morning." 

The  new  regime  in  operation  at  the  elevator 
was  more  of  a  hardship  to  Peterson  than  to  any 
one  else,  because  it  compelled  him  to  be  much 
alone.  Not  only  was  he  quite  cut  off  from  the 
society  of  Max  and  Hilda,  but  it  happened  that 
the  two  or  three  under- foremen  whom  he  liked 
best  were  on  the  day  shift.  The  night's  work 
with  none  of  those  pleasant  little  momentary 
interruptions  that  used  to  occur  in  the  daytime 
was  mere  unrelieved  drudgery,  but  the  after- 
noons, when  he  had  given  up  trying  to  sleep 
any  longer,  were  tedious  enough  to  make  him 
long  for  six  o'clock. 

Naturally,  his  disposition  was  easy  and  gen- 
erous, but  he  had  never  been  in  the  habit  of 
thinking  much,  and  thinking,  especially  as  it 
led  to  brooding,  was  not  good  for  him.    From 


Calumet  "AT"  171 

the  first,  of  course,  he  had  been  hurt  that  the 
office  should  have  thought  it  necessary  to  send 
Bannon  to  supersede  him,  but  so  long  as  he 
had  plenty  to  do  and  was  in  Bannon' s  company 
every  hour  of  the  day,  he  had  not  taken  time 
to  think  about  it  much.  But  now  he  thought  of 
little  else,  and  as  time  went  on  he  succeeded  in 
twisting  nearly  everything  the  new  boss  had 
said  or  done  to  fit  his  theory  that  Bannon  was 
jealous  of  him  and  was  trying  to  take  from 
him  the  credit  which  rightfully  belonged  to 
him.  And  Bannon  had  put  him  in  charge  of 
the  night  shift,  so  Peterson  came  to  think, 
simply  because  he  had  seen  that  Hilda  was  be- 
ginning to  like  him. 

About  four  o'clock  one  afternoon,  not  many 
days  after  Grady's  talk  with  Bannon,  Peterson 
sat  on  the  steps  of  his  boarding-house,  trying 
to  make  up  his  mind  what  to  do,  and  wishing  it 
were  six  o'clock.  He  wanted  to  stroll  down  to 
the  job  to  have  a  chat  with  his  friends,  but  he 
had  somewhat  childishly  decided  he  wasn't 
wanted  there  while  Miss  Vogel  was  in  the  of- 
fice, so  he  sat  still  and  whittled,  and  took  an- 
other view  of  his  grievances.  Glancing  up,  he 
saw  Grady,  the  walking  delegate,  coming  along 


172  Calumet  "K'* 

the  sidewalk.  Now  that  the  responsibility  of 
the  elevator  was  off  his  shoulders  he  no  longer 
cherished  any  particular  animosity  toward  the 
little  Irishman,  but  he  remembered  their  last 
encounter  and  wondered  whether  he  should 
speak  to  him  or  not. 

But  Grady  solved  his  doubt  by  calling  out 
cheerfully  to  know  how  he  was  and  turning  in 
toward  the  steps.  "  I  suppose  I  ought  to  lick 
you  after  what's  passed  between  us,"  he  added 
with  a  broad  smile,  "  but  if  you're  willing  we'll 
call  it  bygones." 

"  Sure,"  said  Peterson. 

"  It's  fine  seasonable  weather  we're  hav- 
ing, and  just  the  thing  for  you  on  the  elevator. 
It's  coming  right  along." 

"  First-rate." 

"  It's  as  interesting  a  bit  of  work  as  I  ever 
saw.  I  was  there  the  other  day  looking  at  it. 
And,  by  the  way,  I  had  a  long  talk  with  Mr. 
Bannon.    He's  a  fine  man." 

Grady  had  seated  himself  on  the  step  below 
Peterson.  Now  for  the  first  time  he  looked  at 
him. 

"  He's  a  good  hustler,"  said  Peterson. 

"Well,  that's  what  passes  for  a  fine  man, 


Calumet  "A""  173 

these  days,  though  mistakes  are  sometimes 
made  that  way.  But  how  does  it  happen  that 
you're  not  down  there  superintending  ?  I  hope 
some  carpenter  hasn't  taken  it  into  his  head  to 
fire  the  boss." 

"  Fm  not  boss  there  any  longer.  The  ofifice 
sent  Bannon  down  to  take  it  over  my  head." 

"You  don't  tell  me  that?  It's  a  pity." 
Grady  was  shaking  his  head  solemnly.  "  It's  a 
pity.  The  men  like  you  first-rate,  Mr.  Peter- 
son. I'm  not  saying  they  don't  like  anybody 
else,  but  they  like  you.  But  people  in  an  office 
a  thousand  miles  away  can't  know  everything, 
and  that's  a  fact.    And  so  he  laid  you  off." 

"  Oh,  no,  I  ain't  quite  laid  off  —  yet.  He's 
put  me  in  charge  of  the  night  shift." 

"  So  you're  working  nights,  then?  It  seemed 
to  me  you  was  working  fast  enough  in  the  day- 
time to  satisfy  anybody.  But  I  suppose  some 
rich  man  is  in  a  hurry  for  it  and  you  must  do 
your  best  to  accommodate  him." 

"  You  bet,  he's  in  a  hurry  for  it.  He  won't 
listen  to  reason  at  all.  Says  the  bins  have  got 
to  be  chock  full  of  grain  before  January  first, 
no  matter  what  happens  to  us.  He  don't  care 
how  much  it  costs,  either." 


174  Calumet  *'K" 

"  I  must  be  going  along,"  said  Grady,  get- 
ting to  his  feet.  "  That  man  must  be  in  a 
hurry.  January  first !  That's  quick  work,  and 
he  don't  care  how  much  it  costs  him.  Oh, 
these  rich  devils!  They're  hustlers,  too,  Mr. 
Peterson.    Well,  good-night  to  you." 

Peterson  saw  Bannon  twice  every  day,  —  for 
a  half  hour  at  night  when  he  took  charge  of  the 
job,  and  for  another  half  hour  in  the  morning 
when  he  relinquished  it.  That  was  all  except 
when  they  chanced  to  meet  during  Bannon's 
irregular  nightly  wanderings  about  the  eleva- 
tor. As  the  days  had  gone  by  these  conversa- 
tions had  been  confined  more  and  more  rigidly 
to  necessary  business,  and  though  this  result 
was  Peterson's  own  bringing  about,  still  he 
charged  it  up  as  another  of  his  grievances 
against  Bannon. 

When,  about  an  hour  after  his  conversation 
with  Grady,  he  started  down  to  the  elevator  to 
take  command,  he  knew  he  ought  to  tell  Ban- 
non of  his  conversation  with  Grady,  and  he 
fully  intended  doing  so.  But  his  determination 
oozed  away  as  he  neared  the  office,  and  when 
he  finally  saw  Bannon  he  decided  to  say  noth- 
ing about  it  whatever.    He  decided  thus  partly 


Calumet  **K''  175 

because  he  wished  to  make  his  conversation 
with  Bannon  as  short  as  possible,  partly  be- 
cause he  had  not  made  up  his  mind  what  sig- 
nificance, if  any,  the  incident  had,  and  (more 
than  either  of  these  reasons)  because  ever  since 
Grady  had  repeated  the  phrase :  "  He  don't 
care  what  it  costs  him,"  Peterson  had  been  un- 
easily aware  that  he  had  talked  too  much. 


CHAPTER  X 

Grady^s  affairs  were  prospering  beyond  his 
expectations,  confident  though  he  had  been. 
Away  back  in  the  summer,  when  the  work  was 
in  its  early  stages,  his  eye  had  been  upon  it; 
he  had  bided  his  time  in  the  somewhat  in- 
definite hope  that  something  would  turn  up. 
But  he  went  away  jubilant  from  his  conver- 
sation with  Peterson,  for  it  seemed  that  all  the 
cards  were  in  his  hands. 

Just  as  a  man  running  for  a  car  is  the  safest 
mark  for  a  gamin's  snowball,  so  Calumet  K, 
through  being  a  rush  job  as  well  as  a  rich  one, 
offered  a  particularly  advantageous  field  for 
Grady's  endeavors.  Men  who  were  trying  to 
accomplish  the  impossible  feat  of  completing, 
at  any  cost,  the  great  hulk  on  the  river  front 
before  the  first  of  January,  would  not  be  likely 
to  stop  to  quibble  at  paying  the  five  thousand 
176 


Calumet  ''K^  177 

dollars  or  so  that  Grady,  who,  as  the  business 
agent  of  his  union  was  simply  in  masquerade, 
would  like  to  extort. 

He  had  heard  that  Peterson  was  somewhat 
disaffected  to  Bannon's  authority,  but  had  not 
expected  him  to  make  so  frank  an  avowal  of  it. 
That  was  almost  as  much  in  his  favor  as  the 
necessity  for  hurry.  These,  with  the  hoist  acci- 
dent to  give  a  color  of  respectability  to  the 
operation,  ought  to  make  it  simple  enough. 
He  had  wit  enough  to  see  that  Bannon  was  a 
much  harder  man  to  handle  than  Peterson,  and 
that  with  Peterson  restored  to  full  authority, 
the  only  element  of  uncertainty  would  be  re- 
moved. And  he  thought  that  if  he  could  get 
Peterson  to  help  him  it  might  be  possible  to 
secure  Bannon's  recall.  If  the  scheme  failed, 
he  had  still  another  shot  in  his  locker,  but  this 
one  was  worth  a  trial,  anyway. 

One  afternoon  in  the  next  week  he  went 
around  to  Peterson's  boarding-house  and  sent 
up  his  card  with  as  much  ceremony  as  though 
the  night  boss  had  been  a  railway  president. 

"  I  hope  you  can  spare  me  half  an  hour,  Mr. 
Peterson.  There's  a  little  matter  of  business 
I'd  like  to  talk  over  with  you." 

N 


178  Calumet  **K*\ 

The  word  affected  Peterson  unpleasantly. 
That  was  a  little  farther  than  he  could  go  with- 
out a  qualm.  "  Sure,"  he  said  uneasily,  look- 
ing at  his  watch. 

"  I  don't  know  as  I  should  call  it  business, 
either,"  Grady  went  on.  "  When  you  come 
right  down  to  it,  it's  a  matter  of  friendship, 
for  surely  it's  no  business  of  mine.  Maybe 
you  think  it's  queer — I  think  it's  queer  myself, 
that  I  should  be  coming  'round  tendering  my 
friendly  services  to  a  man  who's  had  his  hands 
on  my  throat  threatening  my  life.  That  ain't 
my  way,  but  somehow  I  like  you,  Mr.  Peter- 
son, and  there's  an  end  of  it.  And  when  I  like 
a  man,  I  like  him,  too.  How's  the  elevator? 
Everything  going  to  please  you  ?  " 

"  I  guess  it's  going  all  right.    It  ain't " 

Pete  hesitated,  and  then  gave  up  the  broken 
sentence.    "  It's  all  right,"  he  repeated. 

Grady  smiled.  "  There's  the  good  soldier. 
Won't  talk  against  his  general.  But,  Mr. 
Peterson,  let  me  ask  you  a  question ;  answer  me 
as  a  man  of  sense.  Which  makes  the  best  gen- 
eral —  the  man  who  leads  the  charge  straight 
up  to  the  intrenchments,  yellin' :  *  Come  on, 
boys ! '  —  or  the  one  who  says,   very  likely 


Calumet  ''K''  179 

shaking  a  revolver  in  their  faces :  '  Get  in  there, 
ye  damn  low-down  privates,  and  take  that  fort, 
and  report  to  me  when  I've  finished  my  break- 
fast '  ?  Which  one  of  those  two  men  will  the 
soldiers  do  the  most  for  ?  For  the  one  they  like 
best,  Mr.  Peterson,  and  don't  forget  it.  And 
which  one  of  these  are  they  going  to  like  best, 
do  you  suppose  —  the  brave  leader  who  scorns 
to  ask  his  men  to  go  where  he  wouldn't  go  him- 
self, who  isn't  ashamed  to  do  honest  work  with 
honest  hands,  whose  fists  are  good  enough  to 
defend  him  against  his  enemies;  or  the  man 
who  is  afraid  to  go  out  among  the  men  without 
a  revolver  in  his  hip  pocket  ?  Answer  me  as  a 
man  of  sense,  Mr.  Peterson." 

Peterson  was  manifestly  disturbed  by  the 
last  part  of  the  harangue.  Now  he  said :  "  Oh, 
I  guess  Bannon  wasn't  scared  when  he  drawed 
that  gun  on  Reilly.     He  ain't  that  kind." 

"  Would  you  draw  a  gun  on  an  unarmed, 
defenceless  man  ?  "  Grady  asked  earnestly. 

"  No,  I  wouldn't.  I  don't  like  that  way  of 
doing." 

"  The  men  don't  like  it  either,  Mr.  Peterson. 
No  more  than  you  do.  They  like  you.  They'll 
do  anything  you  ask  them  to.    They  know  that 


i8o  Calumet  ''K" 

you  can  do  anything  that  they  can.  But,  Mr. 
Peterson,  I'll  be  frank  with  you.  They  don't 
like  the  man  who  crowded  you  out.  That's 
putting  it  mild.  I  won't  say  they  hate  him  for 
an  uncivil,  hard-tongued,  sneaking  weasel  of  a 
spy " 

"  I  never  knew  Bannon  to  do  anything  like 
that,"  said  Peterson,  slowly. 

"  I  did.  Didn't  he  come  sneaking  up  and 
hear  what  I  was  saying  —  up  on  top  of  the 
elevator  the  other  day?  I  guess  he  won't  try 
that  again.  I  told  him  that  when  I  was  ready 
to  talk  to  him,  I'd  come  down  to  the  office  to 
do  it." 

Grady  was  going  almost  too  far ;  Pete  would 
not  stand  very  much  more ;  already  he  was  try- 
ing to  get  on  his  feet  to  put  an  end  to  the  con- 
versation. "  I  ask  your  pardon,  Mr.  Peterson. 
I  forgot  he  was  a  friend  of  yours.  But  the 
point  is  right  here.  The  men  don't  like  him. 
They've  been  wanting  to  strike  these  three 
days,  just  because  they  don't  want  to  work  for 
that  ruffian.  I  soothed  them  all  I  can,  but  they 
won't  hold  in  much  longer.  Mark  my  words, 
there'll  be  a  strike  on  your  hands  before  the 
week's  out  unless  you  do  something  pretty 


soon." 


Calumet  "isT**  i8l 

"  What  have  they  got  to  strike  about?  Don't 
we  treat  them  all  right?  What  do  they  kick 
about?" 

"  A  good  many  things,  big  and  little.  But 
the  real  reason  is  the  one  I've  been  giving  you 
—  Bannon.     Neither  more  nor  less." 

"  Do  you  mean  they'd  be  all  right  if  another 
man  was  in  charge?  " 

Grady  could  not  be  sure  from  Peterson's  ex- 
pression whether  the  ice  were  firm  enough  to 
step  out  boldly  upon,  or  not.  He  tested  it 
cautiously. 

"  Mr.  Peterson,  I  know  you're  a  good  man. 
I  know  you're  a  generous  man.  I  know  you 
wouldn't  want  to  crowd  Bannon  out  of  his 
shoes  the  way  he  crowded  you  out  of  yours; 
not  even  after  the  way  he's  treated  you.  But 
look  here,  Mr.  Peterson.  Who's  your  duty  to? 
The  men  up  in  Minneapolis  who  pay  your 
salary,  or  the  man  who  has  come  down  here 
and  is  giving  orders  over  your  head? 

"  —  No,  just  let  me  finish,  Mr.  Peterson.  I 
know  what  you're  going  to  say.  But  do  your 
employers  want  to  get  the  job  done  by  New 
Year's  ?  They  do.  Do  they  pay  you  to  help  get 
it  done?    They  do.     Will  it  be  done  if  that 


1 82  Calumet  "iT" 

would-be  murderer  of  a  Bannon  is  allowed  to 
stay  here?  It  will  not,  you  can  bet  on  that. 
Then  it's  your  duty  to  get  him  out  of  here,  and 
Fm  going  to  help  you  do  it." 

Grady  was  on  his  feet  when  he  declaimed 
the  last  sentence.  He  flung  out  his  hand 
toward  Pete.     "  Shake  on  it !  "  he  cried. 

Peterson  had  also  got  to  his  feet,  but  more 
slowly.  He  did  not  take  the  hand.  "  I'm  much 
obliged,  Mr.  Grady,"  he  said.  "It's  very 
kind  in  you.  If  that's  so  as  you  say,  I  suppose 
he'll  have  to  go.  And  he'll  go  all  right  with- 
out any  shoving  when  he  sees  that  it  is  so.  You 
go  and  tell  just  what  youVe  told  me  to  Charlie 
Bannon.     He's  boss  on  this  job." 

Grady  would  have  fared  better  with  a  man 
of  quicker  intelligence.  Peterson  was  so  slow 
at  catching  the  blackmailer's  drift  that  he  spoke 
in  perfectly  good  faith  when  he  made  the  sug- 
gestion that  he  tell  Bannon,  and  Grady  went 
away  a  good  deal  perplexed  as  to  the  best 
course  to  pursue,  —  whether  to  go  directly  to 
Bannon,  or  to  try  the  night  boss  again. 

As  for  Peterson,  four  or  five  times  during 
his  half-hour  talk  with  Bannon  at  the  office 
that  evening,  he  braced  himself  to  tell  the  boss 


Calumet  "K"  183 

what  Grady  had  said,  but  it  was  not  till  just  as 
Bannon  was  going  home  that  it  finally  came 
out.  "Have  you  seen  Grady  lately?"  Pete 
asked,  as  calmly  as  he  could. 

"  He  was  around  here  something  more  than 
a  week  ago;  gave  me  a  little  bombthrowers' 
anniversary  oratory  about  oppressors  and  a 
watchful*  eye.  There's  no  use  paying  any  at- 
tention to  him  yet.  He  thinks  he's  got  some 
trouble  cooking  for  us  on  the  stove,  but  we'll 
have  to  wait  till  he  turns  it  into  the  dish.  He 
ain't  as  dangerous  as  he  thinks  he  is." 

"  He's  been  around  to  see  me  lately  — 
twice." 

"  He  has !  What  did  he  want  with  you  ? 
When  was  it  he  came  ?  " 

"  The  first  time  about  a  week  ago.  That 
was  nothing  but  a  little  friendly  talk,  but " 

"Friendly!  Him!  What  did  he  have  to 
say?" 

"  Why,  it  was  nothing.  I  don't  remember. 
He  wanted  to  know  if  I  was  laid  off,  and  I 
told  him  I  was  on  the  night  shift." 

"Was  that  all?" 

"  Pretty  near.  He  wanted  to  know  what 
we  was  in  such  a  hurry  about,  working  nights, 


1 84  Calumet  ''K** 

and  I  said  we  had  to  be  through  by  January 
first.  Then  he  said  he  supposed  it  must  be  for 
some  rich  man  who  didn't  care  how  much  it 
cost  him ;  and  I  said  yes,  it  was.  That  was  all. 
He  didn't  mean  nothing.  We  were  just  pass- 
ing the  time  of  day.  I  don't  see  any  harm  in 
that." 

Bannon  was  leaning  on  the  rail,  his  face 
away  from  Peterson.  After  a  while  he  spoke 
thoughtfully.  "  Well,  that  cinches  it.  1  guess 
he  meant  to  hold  us  up,  anyway,  but  now  he 
knows  we're  a  good  thing." 

"How's  that?  I  don't  see,"  said  Peterson; 
but  Bannon  made  no  reply. 

"  What  did  he  have  to  offer  the  next  time 
he  came  around?  More  in  the  same  friendly 
way  ?    When  was  it  ?  " 

"  Just  this  afternoon.  Why,  he  said  he  was 
afraid  we'd  have  a  strike  on  our  hands." 

"  He  ought  to  know,"  said  Bannon.  "  Did 
he  give  any  reason  ?  " 

"  Yes,  he  did.  You  won't  mind  my  speaking 
it  right  out,  I  guess.  He  said  the  men  didn't 
like  you,  and  if  you  wasn't  recalled  they'd 
likely  strike.  He  said  they'd  work  under  me 
if  you  was  recalled,  but  he  didn't  think  he  could 


Calumet    'K*'  185 

keep  'em  from  going  out  if  you  stayed.  That 
ain't  what  I  think,  mind  you;  I'm  just  telling 
you  what  he  said.  Then  he  kind  of  insinuated 
that  I  ought  to  do  something  about  it  myself. 
That  made  me  tired,  and  I  told  him  to  come 
to  you  about  it.  I  said  you  was  the  boss  here 
now,  and  I  was  only  the  foreman  of  the  night 
shift." 

Until  that  last  sentence  Bannon  had  been 
only  half  listening.  He  made  no  sign,  indeed, 
of  having  heard  anything,  but  stood  hacking  at 
the  pine  railing  with  his  pocket-knife.  He  was 
silent  so  long  that  at  last  Peterson  arose  to  go. 
Bannon  shut  his  knife  and  wheeled  around  to 
face  him. 

"  Hold  on,  Pete,"  he  said.  "  We'd  better 
talk  this  business  out  right  here." 

"Talk  out  what?" 

"Oh,  I  guess  you  know.  Why  don't  we 
pull  together  better?  What  is  it  you're  sore 
about?" 

"  Nothing.  You  don't  need  to  worry  about 
it." 

"  Look  here,  Pete.  You've  known  me  a 
good  many  years.    Do  you  think  I'm  square?  " 

"  I  never  said  you  wasn't  square."" 


i86  Calumet  "isT" 

"  You  might  have  given  me  the  benefit  of  the 
doubt,  anyway.  I  know  you  didn't  like  my 
coming  down  here  to  take  charge.  Do  you 
suppose  I  did  ?  You  were  unlucky,  and  a  man 
working  for  MacBride  can't  afford  to  be  un- 
lucky ;  so  he  told  me  to  come  and  finish  the  job. 
And  once  I  was  down  here  he  held  me  respon- 
sible for  getting  it  done.  I've  got  to  go  ahead 
just  the  best  I  can.  I  thought  you  saw  that  at 
first,  and  that  we'd  get  on  all  right  together, 
but  lately  it's  been  different." 

"  I  thought  I'd  been  working  hard  enough 
to  satisfy  anybody." 

"  It  ain't  that,  and  you  know  it  ain't.  It's 
just  the  spirit  of  the  thing.  Now,  I  don't  ask 
you  to  tell  me  why  it  is  you  feel  this  way.  If 
you  want  to  talk  it  out  now,  all  right.  If  you 
don't,  all  right  again.  But  if  you  ever  think 
I'm  not  using  you  right,  come  to  me  and  say  so. 
Just  look  at  what  we've  got  to  do  here,  Pete, 
before  the  first  of  January.  Sometimes  I  think 
we  can  do  it,  and  sometimes  I  think  we  can't, 
but  we've  got  to  anyway.  If  we  don't,  Mac- 
Bride  will  just  make  up  his  mind  we're  no 
good.  And  unless  we  pull  together,  we're  stuck 
for  sure.     It  ain't  a  matter  of  work  entirely. 


Calumet  *'K"  187 

I  want  to  feel  that  I've  got  you  with  me. 
Come  around  in  the  afternoon  if  you  happen 
to  be  awake,  and  fuss  around  and  tell  me  what 
I'm  doing  wrong.  I  want  to  consult  you  about 
a  good  many  things  in  the  course  of  a  day." 

Pete's  face  was  simply  a  lens  through  which 
one  could  see  the  feelings  at  work  beneath, 
and  Bannon  knew  that  he  had  struck  the  right 
chord  at  last.  "  How  is  it?    Does  that  go?  " 

"  Sure,"  said  Pete.  "  I  never  knew  you 
wanted  to  consult  me  about  anything,  or  I'd 
have  been  around  before." 

Friday  afternoon  Bannon  received  a  note 
from  Grady  saying  that  if  he  had  any  regard 
for  his  own  interests  or  for  those  of  his  em- 
ployers, he  would  do  well  to  meet  the  writer  at 
ten  o'clock  Sunday  morning  at  a  certain  down- 
town hotel.  It  closed  with  a  postscript  con- 
taining the  disinterested  suggestion  that  delays 
were  dangerous,  and  a  hint  that  the  writer's 
time  was  valuable  and  he  wished  to  be  in- 
formed whether  the  appointment  would  be 
kept  or  not. 

Bannon  ignored  the  note,  and  all  day  Mon- 
day expected  Grady's  appearance  at  the  office. 
He  did  not  come,  but  when  Bannon  reached 


1 88  Calumet  ''K** 

his  boarding-house  about  eight  o'clock  that 
evening,  he  found  Grady  in  his  room  waiting 
for  him. 

"  I  can't  talk  on  an  empty  stomach,"  said 
the  boss,  cheerfully,  as  he  was  washing  up. 
"  Just  wait  till  I  get  some  supper." 

"  I'll  wait,"  said  Grady,  grimly. 

When  Bannon  came  back  to  talk,  he  took  off 
his  coat  and  sat  down  astride  a  chair.  "  Well, 
Mr.  Grady,  when  you  came  here  before  you 
said  it  was  to  warn  me,  but  the  next  time  you 
came  you  were  going  to  begin  to  act.  I'm  all 
ready." 

"  All  right,"  said  Grady,  with  a  vicious  grin. 
"  Be  as  smart  as  you  like.  I'll  be  paid  well  for 
every  word  of  it  and  for  every  minute  you've 
kept  me  waiting  yesterday  and  to-night.  That 
was  the  most  expensive  supper  you  ever  ate. 
I  thought  you  had  sense  enough  to  come,  Mr. 
Bannon.  That's  why  I  wasted  a  stamp  on  you. 
You  made  the  biggest  mistake  of  your 
life " 

During  the  speech  Bannon  had  sat  like  a  man 
hesitating  between  two  courses  of  action.  At 
this  point  he  interrupted :  — 

"  Let's  get  to  business,  Mr.  Grady." 


Calumet  "iT"  189 

"  I'll  get  to  it  fast  enough.  And  when  I  do 
you'll  see  if  you  can  safely  insult  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  mighty  power  of  the  honest 
workingman  of  this  vast  land." 

"Well?" 

"  I  hear  you  folks  are  in  a  hurry,  Mr. 
Bannon?" 

"  Yes." 

"  And  that  you'll  spend  anything  it  costs  to 
get  through  on  time.  How'd  it  suit  you  to 
have  all  your  laborers  strike  about  now? 
Don't  that  idea  make  you  sick  ?  " 

"  Pretty  near." 

"  Well,  they  will  strike  inside  two  days." 

"  What  for  ?  Suppose  we  settle  with  them 
direct." 

"  Just  try  that,"  said  Grady,  with  withering 
sarcasm.  "Just  try  that  and  see  how  it 
works." 

"  I  don't  want  to.  I  only  wanted  to  hear  you 
confess  that  you  are  a  rascal." 

"  You'll  pay  dear  for  giving  me  that  name. 
But  we  come  to  that  later.  Do  you  think  it 
would  be  worth  something  to  the  men  who  hire 
you  for  a  dirty  slave-driver  to  be  protected 
against  a  strike  ?    Wouldn't  they  be  willing  to 


190  Calumet  ''K" 

pay  a  round  sum  to  get  this  work  done  on 
time?  Take  a  minute  to  think  about  it.  Be 
careful  how  you  tell  me  they  wouldn't.  You're 
not  liked  here,  Mr.  Bannon,  by  anybody " 

"  You're  threatening  to  have  me  recalled, 
according  to  your  suggestions  to  Mr.  Peterson 
the  other  night.  Well,  that's  all  right  if  you 
can  do  it.  But  I  think  that  sooner  than  recall 
me  or  have  a  strike  they  would  be  willing  to 
pay  for  protection." 

"  You  do.  I  didn't  look  for  that  much  sense 
in  you.  If  you'd  shown  it  sooner  it  might 
have  saved  your  employers  a  large  wad  of  bills. 
If  you'd  taken  the  trouble  to  be  decent  when  I 
went  to  you  in  a  friendly  way  a  very  little 
would  have  been  enough.  -But  now  I've  got  to 
be  paid.  What  do  you  say  to  five  thousand 
as  a  fair  sum  ?  " 

"  They'd  be  willing  to  pay  fully  that  to  save 
delay,"  said  Bannon,  cheerfully. 

"  They  would ! "  To  save  his  life  Grady 
could  not  help  looking  crestfallen.  It  seemed 
then  that  he  might  have  got  fifty.  "  All  right," 
he  went  on,  "  five  thousand  it  is ;  and  I  want 
it  in  hundred-dollar  bills." 

"You  do!"  cried  Bannon,  jumping  to  his 


Calumet  "^"  191 

feet.  "  Do  you  think  you're  going  to  get  a 
cent  of  it  ?  I  might  pay  blackmail  to  an  honest 
rascal  who  delivered  the  goods  paid  for.  But 
I  had  your  size  the  first  time  you  came  around. 
Don't  you  think  I  knew  what  you  wanted  ?  If 
I'd  thought  you  were  worth  buying,  I'd  have 
settled  it  up  for  three  hundred  dollars  and  a 
box  of  cigars  right  at  the  start.  That's  about 
your  market  price.  But  as  long  as  I  knew 
you'd  sell  us  out  again  if  you  could,  I  didn't 
think  you  were  even  worth  the  cigars.  No; 
don't  tell  me  what  you're  going  to  do.  Go  out 
and  do  it  if  you  can.    And  get  out  of  here." 

For  the  second  time  Bannon  took  the  little 
delegate  by  the  arm.  He  marched  him  to  the 
head  of  the  long,  straight  flight  of  stairs.  Then 
he  hesitated  a  moment.  **  I  wish  you  were 
three  sizes  larger,"  he  said. 


CHAPTER  XI 

The  organization  of  labor  unions  is  gener- 
ally democratic.  The  local  lodge  is  self-gov- 
erning; it  elects  its  delegate,  who  attends  a 
council  of  fellow-delegates,  and  this  council 
may  send  representatives  to  a  still  more  power- 
ful body.  But  however  high  their  titles,  or 
their  salaries,  these  dignitaries  have  power 
only  to  suggest  action,  except  in  a  very  limited 
variety  of  cases.  There  must  always  be  a 
reference  back  to  the  rank  and  file.  The  real 
decision  lies  with  them. 

That  is  the  theory.  The  laborers  on  Calu- 
met K,  with  some  others  at  work  in  the  neigh- 
borhood, had  organized  into  a  lodge  and  had 
affiliated  with  the  American  Federation  of 
Labor.  Grady,  who  had  appeared  out  of  no- 
where, who  had  urged  upon  them  the  need  of 
combining  against  the  forces  of  oppression, 
192 


Calumet  ''K**  193 

and  had  induced  them  to  organize,  had  been, 
without  dissent,  elected  delegate.  He  was 
nothing  more  in  theory  than  this :  simply  their 
concentrated  voice.  And  this  theory  had  the 
fond  support  of  the  laborers.  "  He's  not  our 
boss;  he's  our  servant/'  was  a  sentiment  they 
never  tired  of  uttering  when  the  delegate  was 
out  of  earshot. 

They  met  every  Friday  night,  debated, 
passed  portentous  resolutions,  and  listened  to 
Grady's  oratory.  After  the  meeting  was  over 
they  liked  to  hear  their  delegate,  their  servant, 
talk  mysteriously  of  the  doings  of  the  council, 
and  so  well  did  Grady  manage  this  air  of  mys- 
tery that  each  man  thought  it  assumed  because 
of  the  presence  of  others,  but  that  he  himself 
was  of  the  inner  circle.  They  would  not  have 
dreamed  of  questioning  his  acts  in  meeting 
or  after,  as  they  stood  about  the  dingy,  reeking 
hall  over  Barry's  saloon.  It  was  only  as  they 
went  to  their  lodgings  in  groups  of  two  and 
three  that  they  told  how  much  better  they 
could  manage  things  themselves. 

Bannon  enjoyed  his  last  conversation  with 
Grady,  though  it  left  him  a  good  deal  to  think 
out  afterward.     He  had  acted  quite  deliber- 


194  Calumet  ''K" 

ately,  had  said  nothing  that  afterward  he 
wished  unsaid;  but  as  yet  he  had  not  decided 
what  to  do  next.  After  he  heard  the  door  slam 
behind  the  Httle  delegate,  he  walked  back  into 
his  room,  paced  the  length  of  it  two  or  three 
times,  then  put  on  his  ulster  and  went  out. 
He  started  off  aimlessly,  paying  no  attention 
to  whither  he  was  going,  and  consequently  he 
walked  straight  to  the  elevator.  He  picked  his 
way  across  the  C.  &  S.  C.  tracks,  out  to  the 
wharf,  and  seated  himself  upon  an  empty  nail 
keg  not  far  from  the  end  of  the  spouting 
house. 

He  sat  there  for  a  long  while,  heedless  of 
all  that  was  doing  about  him,  turning  the  situa- 
tion over  and  over  in  his  mind.  Like  a  good 
strategist,  he  was  planning  Grady's  campaign 
as  carefully  as  his  own.  Finally  he  was  re- 
called to  his  material  surroundings  by  a  rough 
voice  which  commanded,  "  Get  off  that  keg 
and  clear  out.  We  don't  allow  no  loafers 
around  here." 

Turning,  Bannon  recognized  one  of  the 
under-foremen.  "  That's  a  good  idea,"  he 
said.  "  Are  you  making  a  regular  patrol,  or 
did  you  just  happen  to  see  me  ?  " 


Calumet  "^"  195 

"  I  didn't  know  it  was  you.  No,  I'm  tend- 
ing to  some  work  here  in  the  spouting  house." 

"  Do  you  know  where  Mr.  Peterson  is  ?  " 

"  He  was  right  up  here  a  bit  ago.  Do  you 
want  to  see  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  if  he  isn't  busy.  I'm  not  the  only 
loafer  here,  it  seems,"  added  Bannon,  nodding 
toward  where  the  indistinct  figures  of  a  man 
and  a  woman  could  be  seen  coming  slowly 
toward  them  along  the  narrow  strip  of  wharf 
between  the  building  and  the  water.  "  Never 
mind,"  he  added,  as  the  foreman  made  a  step  in 
their  direction,  "  I'll  look  after  them  myself." 

The  moment  after  he  had  called  the  fore- 
man's attention  to  them  he  had  recognized 
them  as  Hilda  and  Max.  He  walked  over  to 
meet  them.  "  We  can't  get  enough  of  it  in  the 
daytime,  can  we." 

"  It's  a  great  place  for  a  girl,  isn't  it,  Mr. 
Bannon,"  said  Max.  *'  I  was  coming  over 
here  and  Hilda  made  me  bring  her  along.  She 
said  she  thought  it  must  look  pretty  at  night." 

"Doesn't  it?"  she  asked.  "Don't  you 
think  it  does,  Mr.  Bannon  ?  " 

He  had  been  staring  at  it  for  half  an  hour. 
Now  for  the  first  time  he  looked  at  it     For 


196  Calumet  ''K'' 

ninety  feet  up  into  the  air  the  large  mass  was 
one  unrelieved,  unbroken  shadow,  barely  dis- 
tinguishable from  the  night  sky  that  enveloped 
it.  Above  was  the  skeleton  of  the  cupola,  made 
brilliant,  fairly  dazzling,  in  contrast,  by  scores 
of  arc  lamps.  At  that  distance  and  in  that 
confused  tangle  of  light  and  shadow  the  great 
timbers  of  the  frame  looked  spidery.  The 
effect  was  that  of  a  luminous  crown  upon  a 
gigantic,  sphinx-like  head. 

"  I  guess  you  are  right,"  he  said  slowly. 
"  But  I  never  thought  of  it  that  way  beiore. 
And  I've  done  more  or  less  night  work,  too." 

A  moment  later  Peterson  came  up.  "  Hav- 
ing a  tea  party  out  here  ?  "  he  asked ;  then 
turning  to  Bannon:  *'Was  there  something 
special  you  wanted,  Charlie?  I've  got  to  go 
over  to  the  main  house  pretty  soon." 

"  It's  our  friend  Grady.  He's  come  down 
to  business  at  last.     He  wants  money." 

Hilda  was  quietly  signalling  Max  to  come 
away,  and  Bannon,  observing  it,  broke  off  to 
speak  to  them.  "  Don't  go,"  he  said.  "  We'll 
have  a  brief  council  of  war  right  here."  So 
Hilda  was  seated  on  the  nail  keg,  while  Ban- 
non, resting  his  elbows  on  the  top  of  a  spile 


Calumet  "^'*  197 

which  projected  waist  high  through  the  floor 
of  the  wharf,  expounded  the  situation. 

"  You  understand  his  proposition,"  he  said, 
addressing  Hilda,  rather  than  either  of  the 
men.  "  It's  just  plain  blackmail.  He  says,  '  If 
you  don't  want  your  laborers  to  strike,  you'll 
have  to  pay  my  price.'  " 

"  Not  much,"  Pete  broke  in.  "  I'd  let  the 
elevator  rot  before  I'd  pay  a  cent  of  blackmail." 

"  Page  wouldn't,"  said  Bannon,  shortly,  "  or 
MacBride,  neither.  They'd  be  glad  to  pay  five 
thousand  or  so  for  protection.  But  they'd 
want  protection  that  would  protect.  Grady's 
trying  to  sell  us  a  gold  brick.  He  hated  us  to 
begin  with,  and  when  he'd  struck  us  for  about 
all  he  thought  we'd  stand,  he'd  call  the  men  off 
just  the  same,  and  leave  us  to  waltz  the  timbers 
around  all  by  ourselves." 

"  How  much  did  he  want  ?  " 

"  All  he  could  get.  I  think  he'd  have  been 
satisfied  with  a  thousand,  but  he'd  come  'round 
next  week  for  a  thousand  more." 

"What  did  you  tell  him?" 

"  I  told  him  that  a  five-cent  cigar  was  a 
bigger  investment  than  I  cared  to  make  on 
him  and  that  when  we  paid  blackmail  it  would 


198  Calumet  "iT" 

be  to  some  fellow  who'd  deliver  the  goods.  I 
said  he  could  begin  to  make  trouble  just  as 
soon  as  he  pleased." 

"  Seems  to  me  you  might  have  asked  for  a 
few  days'  time  to  decide.  Then  we  could  have 
got  something  ready  to  come  at  him  with. 
He's  liable  to  call  our  men  out  to-night,  ain't 
he?" 

"  I  don't  think  so.  I  thought  of  trying  to 
stave  him  off  for  a  few  days,  but  then  I 
thought,  *  Why,  he'll  see  through  that  game 
and  he'll  go  on  with  his  scheme  for  sewing  us 
up  just  the  same.'  You  see,  there's  no  good 
saying  we're  afraid.  So  I  told  him  that  we 
didn't  mind  him  a  bit ;  said  he  could  go  out  and 
have  all  the  fun  he  liked  with  us.  If  he  thinks 
we've  got  something  up  our  sleeve  he  may  be  a 
little  cautious.  Anyway,  he  knows  that  our 
biggest  rush  is  coming  a  little  later,  and  he's 
likely  to  wait  for  it." 

Then  Hilda  spoke  for  the  first  time.  "  Has 
he  so  much  power  as  that?  Will  they  strike 
just  because  he  orders  them  to  ?  " 

"  Why,  not  exactly,"  said  Bannon.  "  They 
decide  that  for  themselves,  or  at  least  they 
think  they  do.    They  vote  on  it." 


Calumet  ''K''  199 

"  Well,  then,"  she  asked  hesitatingly,  "  why 
can't  you  just  tell  the  men  what  Mr.  Grady 
wants  you  to  do  and  show  them  that  he's  dis- 
honest? They  know  they've  been  treated  all 
right,  don't  they?" 

Bannon  shook  his  head.  "  No  use,"  he  said. 
"  You  see,  these  fellows  don't  know  much. 
They  aren't  like  skilled  laborers  who  need 
some  sense  in  their  business.  They're  just 
common  roustabouts,  and  most  of  'em  have 
gunpowder  in  place  of  brains.  They  don't 
want  facts  or  reason  either;  what  they  like  is 
Grady's  oratory.  They  think  that's  the  finest 
thing  they  ever  heard.  They  might  all  be  per- 
fectly satisfied  and  anxious  to  work,  but  if 
Grady  was  to  sing  out  to  know  if  they  wanted 
to  be  slaves,  they'd  all  strike  like  a  freight  train 
rolling  down  grade. 

"  No,"  he  went  on,  "  there's  nothing  to  be 
done  with  the  men.  Do  you  know  what  would 
happen  if  I  was  to  go  up  to  their  lodge  and  tell 
right  out  that  Grady  was  a  blackmailer  ?  Why, 
after  they'd  got  through  with  me,  personally, 
they'd  pass  a  resolution  vindicating  Grady. 
They'd  resolve  that  I  was  a  thief  and  a  liar 
and  a  murderer  and  an  oppressor  of  the  poor 


200  Calumet  '*K" 

and  a  traitor,  and  if  they  could  think  of  any- 
thing more  than  that,  they'd  put  it  in,  too. 
And  after  vindicating  Grady  to  their  satisfac- 
tion, they'd  take  his  word  for  law  and  the 
gospel  more  than  ever.  In  this  sort  of  a  scrape 
you  want  to  hit  as  high  as  you  can,  strike  the 
biggest  man  who  will  let  you  in  his  office.  It's 
the  small  fry  that  make  the  trouble.  I  guess 
that's  true  'most  everywhere.  I  know  the  gen- 
eral manager  of  a  railroad  is  always  an  easier 
chap  to  get  on  with  than  the  division  superin- 
tendent." 

"  Well,"  said  Pete,  after  waiting  a  moment 
to  see  if  Bannon  had  any  definite  suggestion 
to  make  as  to  the  best  way  to  deal  with  Grady, 
"  I'm  glad  you  don't  think  he'll  try  to  tie  us  up 
to-night  Maybe  we'll  think  of  something  to- 
morrow.    I've  got  to  get  back  on  the  job." 

"  ril  go  up  with  you,"  said  Max,  promptly. 
Then,  in  answer  to  Hilda's  gesture  of  protest, 
'*  You  don't  want  to  climb  away  up  there 
to-night.  I'll  be  back  in  ten  minutes,"  and  he 
was  gone  before  she  could  reply.  "  I  guess  I 
can  take  care  of  you  till  he  comes  back,"  said 
Bannon.  Hilda  made  no  answer.  She  seemed 
to  think  that  silence  would  conceal  her  annoy- 


Calumet  **K**  20I 

ance  better  than  anything  she  could  say.  So, 
after  waiting  a  moment,  Bannon  went  on 
talking. 

"  I  suppose  that's  the  reason  why  I  get  ugly 
sometimes  and  call  names ;  because  I  ain't  a  big 
enough  man  not  to.  If  I  was  getting  twenty- 
five  thousand  a  year  maybe  I'd  be  as  smooth  as 
anybody.  I'd  like  to  be  a  general  manager  for 
a  while,  just  to  see  how  it  would  work." 

"  I  don't  see  how  anybody  could  ever  know 
enough  to  run  a  railroad."  Hilda  was  looking 
up  at  the  C.  &  S.  C.  right  of  way,  where  red 
and  white  semaphore  lights  were  winking. 

"  I  was  offered  that  job  once  myself,  though, 
.  and  turned  it  down,"  said  Bannon.  "  I  was 
superintendent  of  the  electric  light  plant  at 
Yawger.  Yawger's  quite  a  place,  on  a  branch 
of  the  G.  T.  There  was  another  road  ran 
through  the  town,  called  the  Bemis,  Yawger 
and  Pacific.  It  went  from  Bemis  to  Stiles 
Corners,  a  place  about  six  miles  west  of  Yaw- 
ger. It  didn't  get  any  nearer  the  Pacific  than 
that.  Nobody  in  Yawger  ever  went  to  Bemis 
or  Stiles,  and  there  wasn't  anybody  in  Bemis 
and  Stiles  to  come  to  Yawger,  or  if  they  did 
come  they  never  went  back,  so  the  road  didn't 


202  Calumet  "iT" 

do  a  great  deal  of  business.  They  assessed  the 
stock  every  year  to  pay  the  officers'  salaries  — 
and  they  had  a  full  line  of  officers,  too  —  but 
the  rest  of  the  road  had  to  scrub  along  the  best 
it  could. 

"  When  they  elected  me  alderman  from  the 
first  ward  up  at  Yawger,  I  found  out  that  the 
B.  Y.  &  P.  owed  the  city  four  hundred  and 
thirty  dollars,  so  I  tried  to  find  out  why  they 
wasn't  made  to  pay.  It  seemed  that  the  city 
had  had  a  judgment  against  them  for  years, 
but  they  couldn't  get  hold  of  anything  that  was 
worth  seizing.  They  all  laughed  at  me  when 
I  said  I  meant  to  get  that  money  out  of  'em. 

"  The  railroad  had  one  train ;  there  was  an 
engine  and  three  box  cars  and  a  couple  of  flats 
and  a  combination  —  that's  baggage  and  pas- 
senger. It  made  the  round  trip  from  Bemis 
every  day,  fifty-two  miles  over  all,  and  con- 
sidering the  roadbed  and  the  engine,  that  was 
a  good  day's  work. 

"  Well,  that  train  was  worth  four  hundred 
and  thirty  dollars  all  right  enough,  if  they 
could  have  got  their  hands  on  it,  but  the  engi- 
neer was  such  a  peppery  chap  that  nobody  ever 
wanted  to  bother  him.     But  I  just  bided  my 


Calumet  "AT"  203 

time,  and  one  hot  day  after  watering  up  the 
engine  him  and  the  conductor  went  off  to  get 
a  drink.  I  had  a  few  lengths  of  log  chain 
handy,  and  some  laborers  with  picks  and  shov- 
els, and  we  made  a  neat,  clean  little  job  of  it. 
Then  I  climbed  up  into  the  cab.  When  the  en- 
gineer came  back  and  wanted  to  know  what  I 
was  doing  there,  I  told  him  we'd  attached  his 
train.  *  Don't  you  try  to  serve  no  papers  on 
me,'  he  sung  out,  *  or  I'll  split  your  head.' 

*  There's  no  papers  about  this  job,'   said  L 

*  We've  attached  it  to  the  track.'  At  that  he 
dropped  the  fire  shovel  and  pulled  open  the 
throttle.  The  drivers  spun  around  all  right, 
but  the  train  never  moved  an  inch. 

"  He  calmed  right  down  after  that  and  said 
he  hadn't  four  hundred  and  thirty  dollars  with 
him,  but  if  I'd  let  the  train  go,  he'd  pay  me  in 
a  week.  I  couldn't  quite  do  that,  so  him  and 
the  conductor  had  to  walk  'way  to  Bemis, 
where  the  general  offices  was.  They  was 
pretty  mad.  We  had  that  train  chained  up 
there  for  'most  a  month,  and  at  last  they  paid 
the  claim." 

"  Was  that  the  railroad  that  offered  to  make 
you  general  manager  ?  "  Hilda  asked. 


204  Calumet  **K** 

"  Yes,  provided  I'd  let  the  train  go.  rm 
glad  I  didn't  take  it  up,  though.  You  see,  the 
farmers  along  the  road  who  held  the  stock  in 
it  made  up  their  minds  that  the  train  had  quit 
running  for  good,  so  they  took  up  the  rails 
where  it  ran  across  their  farms,  and  used  the 
ties  for  firewood.  That's  all  they  ever  got  out 
of  their  investment." 

A  few  moments  later  Max  came  back  and 
Bannon  straightened  up  to  go.  "  I  wish  you'd 
tell  Pete  when  you  see  him  to-morrow,"  he  said 
to  the  boy,  "  that  I  won't  be  on  the  job  till 
noon." 

"  Going  to  take  a  holiday  ?  " 

"  Yes.  Tell  him  I'm  taking  the  rest  cure 
up  at  a  sanitarium." 

At  half-past  eight  next  morning  Bannon 
entered  the  outer  office  of  R.  S.  Carver,  presi- 
dent of  the  Central  District  of  the  American 
Federation  of  Labor,  and  seated  himself  on  one 
of  the  long  row  of  wood-bottomed  chairs  that 
stood  against  the  wall.  Most  of  them  were 
already  occupied  by  poorly  dressed  men  who 
seemed  also  to  be  waiting  for  the  president. 
One  man,  in  dilapidated,  dirty  finery,  was 
leaning  over  the  stenographer's  desk,  talking 


Calumet  "A""  205 

about  the  last  big  strike  and  guessing  at  the 
chance  of  there  being  any  fun  ahead  in  the  im- 
mediate future.  But  the  rest  of  them  waited 
in  stoHd,  silent  patience,  sitting  quite  still  in 
unbroken  rank  along  the  wall,  their  overcoats, 
if  they  had  them,  buttoned  tight  around  their 
chins,  though  the  office  was  stifling  hot.  The 
dirty  man  who  was  talking  to  the  stenographer 
filled  a  pipe  with  some  very  bad  tobacco  and 
ostentatiously  began  smoking  it,  but  not  a  man 
followed  his  example. 

Bannon  sat  in  that  silent  company  for  more 
than  an  hour  before  the  great  man  came. 
Even  then  there  was  no  movement  among 
those  who  sat  along  the  wall,  save  as  they  fol- 
lowed him  almost  furtively  with  their  eyes. 
The  president  never  so  much  as  glanced  at  one 
of  them;  for  all  he  seemed  to  see  the  rank  of 
chairs  might  have  been  empty.  He  marched 
across  to  his  private  office,  and,  leaving  the 
door  open  behind  him,  sat  down  before  his 
desk.  Bannon  sat  still  a  moment,  waiting  for 
those  who  had  come  before  him  to  make  the 
first  move,  but  not  a  man  of  them  stirred,  so, 
somewhat  out  of  patience  with  this  mysteri- 
ously solemn  way  of  doing  business,  he  arose 


206  Calumet  "^'* 

and  walked  into  the  president's  office  with  as 
much  assurance  as  though  it  had  been  his  own. 
He  shut  the  door  after  him.  The  president  did 
not  look  up,  but  went  on  cutting  open  his 
mail. 

"  I'm  from  MacBride  &  Company,  of  Min- 
neapolis," said  Bannon. 

"  Guess  I  don't  know  the  parties." 

"  Yes,  you  do.  We're  building  a  grain  ele- 
vator at  Calumet." 

The  president  looked  up  quickly.  "  Sit 
down,"  he  said.  "  Are  you  superintending  the 
work?" 

"  Yes.  My  name's  Bannon  —  Charles  Ban- 
non." 

"  Didn't  you  have  some  sort  of  an  accident 
out  there?  An  overloaded  hoist?  And  you 
hurt  a  man,  I  believe." 

"  Yes." 

"  And  I  think  one  of  your  foremen  drew  a 
revolver  on  a  man." 

"  I  did,  myself." 

The  president  let  a  significant  pause  inter- 
vene before  his  next  question.  "  What  do  you 
want  with  me?" 

"  I  want  you  to  help  me  out.    It  looks  as 


Calumet  "K''  207 

though  we  might  get  into  trouble  with  our 
laborers." 

"  You've  come  to  the  wrong  man.  Mr. 
Grady  is  the  man  for  you  to  talk  with.  He's 
their  representative." 

"  We  haven't  got  on  very  well  with  Mr. 
Grady.  The  first  time  he  came  on  the  job  he 
didn't  know  our  rule  that  visitors  must  apply 
at  the  office,  and  we  weren't  very  polite  to  him. 
He's  been  down  on  us  ever  since.  We  can't 
make  any  satisfactory  agreement  with  him." 

Carver  turned  away  impatiently.  "  You'll 
have  to,"  he  said,  "  if  you  want  to  avoid 
trouble  with  your  men.  It's  no  business  of 
mine.    He's  acting  on  their  instructions." 

"  No,  he  isn't,"  said  Bannon,  sharply. 
"  What  they  want,  I  guess,  is  to  be  treated 
square  and  paid  a  fair  price.  What  he  wants 
is  blackmail." 

"  I've  heard  that  kind  of  talk  before.  It's 
the  same  howl  that  an  employer  always  makes 
when  he's  tried  to  bribe  an  agent  who's  active 
in  the  interest  of  the  men,  and  got  left  at  it. 
What  have  you  got  to  show  for  it  ?  Anything 
but  just  your  say  so?  " 

Bannon  drew  out  Grady's  letter  of  warning 


2o8  Calumet  ''K** 

and  handed  it  to  him.  Carver  read  it  through, 
then  tossed  it  on  his  desk.  "  You  certainly 
don't  offer  that  as  proof  that  he  wants  black- 
mail, Mr.  Bannon." 

"  There's  never  any  proof  of  blackmail. 
When  a  man  can  see  me  alone,  he  isn't  going 
to  talk  before  witnesses,  and  he  won't  commit 
himself  in  writing.  Grady  told  me  that  unless 
we  paid  his  price  he'd  tie  us  up.  No  one  else 
was  around  when  he  said  it." 

"  Then  you  haven't  anything  but  your  say 
so.  But  I  know  him,  and  I  don't  know  you. 
Do  you  think  I'd  take  your  word  against 
his?" 

"  That  letter  doesn't  prove  blackmail,"  said 
Bannon,  **  but  it  smells  of  it.  And  there's  the 
same  smell  about  everything  Grady  has  done. 
When  he  came  to  my  office  a  day  or  two  after 
that  hoist  accident,  I  tried  to  find  out  what  he 
wanted,  and  he  gave  me  nothing  but  oratory. 
I  tried  to  pin  him  down  to  something  definite, 
but  my  stenographer  was  there  and  Grady 
didn't  have  a  suggestion  to  make.  Then  by 
straining  his  neck  and  asking  questions,  he 
found  out  we  were  in  a  hurry,  that  the  elevator 
was  no  good  unless  it  was  done  by  January 


Calumet  "^"  209 

first,  and  that  we  had  all  the  money  we 
needed. 

"  Two  days  after  he  sent  me  that  letter. 
Look  at  it  again.  Why  does  he  want  to  take 
both  of  us  to  Chicago  on  Sunday  morning, 
when  he  can  see  me  any  time  at  my  office  on 
the  job?"  Bannon  spread  the  letter  open  be- 
fore Carver's  face.  "  Why  doesn't  he  say 
right  here  what  it  is  he  wants,  if  it's  anything 
he  dares  to  put  in  black  and  white?  I  didn't 
pay  any  attention  to  that  letter;  it  didn't  de- 
serve any.  And  then  will  you  tell  me  why  he 
came  to  my  room  at  night  to  see  me  instead  of 
to  my  office  in  the  daytime?  I  can  prove  that 
he  did.  Does  all  that  look  as  if  I  tried  to 
bribe  him?  Forget  that  we're  talking  about 
Grady,  and  tell  me  what  you  think  it  looks 
like." 

Carver  was  silent  for  a  moment.  "  That 
wouldn't  do  any  good,"  he  said  at  last.  "  If 
you  had  proof  that  I  could  act  on,  I  might  be 
able  to  help  you.  I  haven't  any  jurisdiction 
in  the  internal  affairs  of  that  lodge ;  but  if  you 
could  offer  proof  that  he  is  what  you  say  he  is, 
I  could  tell  them  that  if  they  continued  to  sup- 
port him,  the  federation  withdraws  its  support. 


2IO  Calumet  **K" 

But  I  don't  see  that  I  can  help  you  as  it  is.  I 
don't  see  any  reason  why  I  should." 

"  I'll  tell  you  why  you  should.  Because  if 
there's  any  chance  that  what  I've  said  is  true, 
it  will  be  a  lot  better  for  your  credit  to  have 
the  thing  settled  quietly.  And  it  won't  be  set- 
tled quietly  if  we  have  to  fight.  It  isn't  very 
much  you  have  to  do;  just  satisfy  yourself  as 
to  how  things  are  going  down  there.  See 
whether  we're  square,  or  Grady  is.  Then  when 
the  scrap  comes  on  you'll  know  how  to  act. 
That's  all.  Do  your  investigating  in  ad- 
vance." 

"  That's  just  what  I  haven't  any  right  to  do. 
I  can't  mix  up  in  the  business  till  it  comes  be- 
fore me  in  the  regular  way." 

"  Well,"  said  Bannon,  with  a  smile,  "  if  you 
can't  do  it  yourself,  maybe  some  man  you  have 
confidence  in  would  do  it  for  you." 

Carver  drummed  thoughtfully  on  his  desk 
for  a  few  minutes.  Then  he  carefully  folded 
Grady's  letter  and  put  it  in  his  pocket.  "  I'm 
glad  to  have  met  you,  Mr.  Bannon,"  he  said, 
holding  out  his  hand.     "  Good  morning." 

Next  morning  while  Bannon  was  opening 
his  mail,  a  man  came  to  the  timekeeper's  win- 


Calumet  "AT"  211 

dow  and  asked  for  a  job  as  a  laborer.  "  Guess 
we've  got  men  enough/'  said  Max.  "  Haven't 
we,  Mr.  Bannon  ?  " 

The  man  put  his  head  in  the  window.  "  A 
fellow  down  in  Chicago  told  me  if  I'd  come 
out  here  to  Calumet  K  and  ask  Mr.  Bannon  for 
a  job,  he'd  give  me  one." 

"  Are  you  good  up  high?  "  Bannon  asked. 

The  man  smiled  ruefully,  and  said  he  was 
afraid  not. 

"  Well,  then,"  returned  Bannon,  "  we'll  have 
to  let  you  in  on  the  ground  floor.  What's  your 
name?  " 

"  James." 

"  Go  over  to  the  tool  house  and  get  a  broom. 
Give  him  a  check.  Max." 


CHAPTER   XII 

On  the    twenty-second  of  November  Ban- 
non  received  this  telegram :  — 

Mr.  Charles  Bannon,  care  of  MacBride  &  Company, 
South  Chicago ; 
We  send  to-day  complete  drawings  for  marine  tower 
which  you  will  build  in  the  middle  of  spouting  house. 
Harahan  Company  are  building  the  Leg. 

MacBride  &  Co. 

Bannon  read  it  carefully,  folded  it,  opened 

it  and  read  it  again,  then  tossed  it  on  the  desk. 
"  We're  off  now,  for  sure,"  he  said  to  Miss 

Vogel.     "  Fve  known  that  was  coming  sure 

as  Christmas." 

Hilda  picked  it  up. 

"  Is  there  an  answer,  Mr.  Bannon  ?  " 

"  No,  just  file  it.    Do  you  make  it  out?  " 

She  read  it  and  shook  her  head.     Bannon 

ignored  her  cool  manner. 

312 


Calumet  "A""  213 

"  It  means  that  your  friends  on  MacBride  & 
Company's  Calumet  house  are  going  to  have 
the  time  of  their  lives  for  the  next  few  weeks. 
I'm  going  to  carry  compressed  food  in  my 
pockets,  and  when  meal  time  comes  around, 
just  take  a  capsule." 

"  I  think  I  know,"  she  said  slowly ;  "  a  ma- 
rine leg  is  the  thing  that  takes  grain  up  out  of 
ships." 

"  That's  right.  You'd  better  move  up 
head." 

"  And  we've  been  building  a  spouting  house 
instead  to  load  it  into  ships." 

"  We'll  have  to  build  both  now.  You  see, 
it's  getting  around  to  the  time  when  the 
Pages'll  be  having  a  fit  every  day  until  the 
machinery's  running,  and  every  bin  is  full. 
And  every  time  they  have  a  fit,  the  people  up 
at  the  office'll  have  another,  and  they'll  pass  it 
on  to  us." 

"  But  why  do  they  want  the  marine  leg?" 
she  asked,  "  any  more  now  than  they  did  at 
first?" 

"  They've  got  to  get  the  wheat  down  by  boat 
instead  of  rail,  that's  all.  Or  likely  it'll  be 
coming  both  ways.     There's  no  telling  now 


214  Calumet  *'K*' 

what's  behind  it.  Both  sides  have  got  big 
men  fighting.  YouVe  seen  it  in  the  papers, 
haven't  you  ?  " 

She  nodded. 

"Of  course,  what  the  papers  say  isn't  all 
true,  but  it's  lively  doings  all  right." 

The  next  morning's  mail  brought  the  draw- 
ings and  instructions;  and  with  them  came  a 
letter  from  Brown  to  Bannon.  "  I  suppose 
there's  not  much  good  in  telling  you  to  hurry," 
it  ran;  "but  if  there  is  another  minute  a  day 
you  can  crowd  in,  I  guess  you  know  what  to 
do  with  it.  Page  told  me  to-day  that  this  ele- 
vator will  make  or  break  them.  Mr.  Mac- 
Bride  says  that  you  can  have  all  January  for  a 
vacation  if  you  get  it  through.  We  owe  you 
two  weeks  off,  anyhow,  that  you  didn't  take 
last  summer.  We're  running  down  that  C.  & 
S.  C.  business,  though  I  don't  believe,  myself, 
that  they'll  give  you  any  more  trouble." 

Bannon  read  it  to  Hilda,  saying  as  he  laid  it 
down :  — 

"  That's  something  like.  I  don't  know 
where'll  I  go,  though.  Winter  ain't  exactly 
the  time  for  a  vacation,  unless  you  go  shooting, 
and  I'm  no  hand  for  that." 


Calumet  ''K''  21$ 

"  Couldn't  you  put  it  off  till  summer  ?  "  she 
asked,  smiling  a  little. 

"  Not  much.  You  don't  know  those  people. 
By  the  time  summer' d  come  around,  they'd 
have  forgotten  I  ever  worked  here.  I'd  strike 
for  a  month  and  Brown  would  grin  and  say: 
*  That's  all  right,  Bannon,  you  deserve  it  if 
anybody  does.  It'll  take  a  week  or  so  to  get 
your  pass  arranged,  and  you  might  just  run 
out  to  San  Francisco  and  see  if  things  are  go- 
ing the  way  they  ought  to.'  And  then  the  first 
thing  I  knew  I'd  be  working  three  shifts  some- 
where over  in  China,  and  Brown  would  be  writ- 
ing me  I  was  putting  in  too  much  time  at  my 
meals.  No,  if  MacBride  &  Company  offer  you 
a  holiday,  the  best  thing  you  can  do  is  to  grab 
it,  and  run,  and  saw  off  the  telegraph  poles  be- 
hind you.  And  you  couldn't  be  sure  of  your- 
self then." 

He  turned  the  letter  over  in  his  hand. 

"  I  might  go  up  on  the  St.  Lawrence,"  he 
went  on.  "  That's  the  only  place  for  spending 
the  winter  that  ever  struck  me." 

"Isn't  it  pretty  cold?" 

"  It  ain't  so  bad.  I  was  up  there  last  winter. 
We  put  up  at  a  house  at  Coteau,  you  know. 


2l6  Calumet  *'K** 

When  I  got  there  the  foundation  wasn't  even 
begun,  and  we  had  a  bad  time  getting  laborers, 
I  put  in  the  first  day  sitting  on  the  ice  sawing 
off  spiles." 

Hilda  laughed. 

"  I  shouldn't  think  you'd  care  much  about 
going  back." 

"  Were  you  ever  there?  "  he  asked. 

"  No,  I've  never  been  anywhere  but  home 
and  here,  in  Chicago." 

"  Where  is  your  home?  " 

"  It  was  up  in  Michigan.  That's  where 
Max  learned  the  lumber  business.  But  he  and 
I  have  been  here  for  nearly  two  years." 

"  Well,"  said  Bannon,  "  some  folks  may 
think  it's  cold  up  there,  but  there  ain't  any- 
where else  to  touch  it.  It's  high  ground,  you 
know  —  nothing  like  this  "  —  he  swept  his 
arm  about  to  indicate  the  flats  outside  —  "and 
the  scenery  beats  anything  this  side  of  the 
Rockies.  It  ain't  that  there's  mountains  there, 
you  understand,  but  it's  all  big  and  open,  and 
they've  got  forests  there  that  would  make  your 
Michigan  pine  woods  look  like  weeds  on  a 
sandhill.  And  the  river's  great.  You  haven't 
seen  anything  really  fine  till  you've  seen  the 


Calumet  '*K**  21; 

rapids  in  winter.  The  people  there  have  a 
good  time  too.  They  know  how  to  enjoy  Hfe 
—  it  isn't  all  grime  and  sweat  and  making 
money." 

**  Well,"  said  Hilda,  looking  down  at  her 
pencil  and  drawing  aimless  designs  as  she 
talked,  "  I  suppose  it  is  a  good  place  to  go. 
I've  seen  the  pictures,  of  course,  in  the  time- 
tables ;  and  one  of  the  railroad  offices  on  Clark 
Street  used  to  have  some  big  photographs  of 
the  St.  Lawrence  in  the  window.  I  looked  at 
them  sometimes,  but  I  never  thought  of  really 
seeing  anything  like  that.  I've  had  some 
pretty  good  times  on  the  lake  and  over  at  St. 
Joe.  Max  used  to  take  me  over  to  Berrien 
Springs  last  summer,  when  he  could  get  off. 
My  aunt  lives  there." 

Bannon  was  buttoning  his  coat,  and  looking 
at  her.  He  felt  the  different  tone  that  had 
got  into  their  talk.  It  had  been  impersonal  a 
few  minutes  before. 

"  Oh,  St.  Joe  isn't  bad,"  he  was  saying;  "  it's 
quiet  and  restful  and  all  that,  but  it's  not  the 
same  sort  of  thing  at  all.  You  go  over  there 
and  ride  up  the  river  on  the  May  Graham,  and 
it  makes  you  feel  lazy  and  comfortable,  but  it 


2i8  Calumet  "^" 

doesn't  stir  you  up  inside  like  the  St.  Lawrence 
does/' 

She  looked  up.  Her  eyes  were  sparkling  as 
they  had  sparkled  that  afternoon  on  the  eleva- 
tor when  she  first  looked  out  into  the  sunset. 

"  Yes,"  she  replied.  "  I  think  I  know  what 
you  mean.  But  I  never  really  felt  that  way; 
I've  only  thought  about  it." 

Bannon  turned  half  away,  as  if  to  go. 

"  You'll  have  to  go  down  there,  that's  all," 
he  said  abruptly.  He  looked  back  at  her  over 
his  shoulder,  and  added,  "That's  all  there  is 
about  it." 

Her  eyes  were  half  startled,  half  mischiev- 
ous, for  his  voice  had  been  still  less  impersonal 
than  before.  Then  she  turned  back  to  her 
work,  her  face  sober,  but  an  amused  twinkle 
lingering  in  her  eyes. 

"  I  should  like  to  go,"  she  said,  her  pencil 
poised  at  the  top  of  a  long  column.  "  Max 
would  like  it,  too." 

After  supper  that  evening  Max  returned 
early  from  a  visit  to  the  injured  man,  and  told 
Hilda  of  a  new  trouble. 

"Do  you  know  that  little  delegate  that's 
been  hanging  around  ?  "  he  asked. 


Calumet  "K'*  219 

"  Grady,'*  she  said,  and  nodded. 

"  Yes,  he's  been  working  the  man.  I  never 
saw  such  a  change  in  my  life.  He  just  sat 
up  there  in  bed  and  swore  at  me,  and  said  I 
needn't  think  I  could  buy  him  off  with  this 
stuff  "  —  he  looked  down  and  Hilda  saw  that 
the  bowl  in  his  hand  was  not  empty  —  "  and 
raised  a  row  generally." 

"Why?"  she  asked. 

"  Give  it  up.  From  what  he  said,  I'm  sure 
Grady's  behind  it." 

"  Did  he  give  his  name  ?  " 

"  No,  but  he  did  a  lot  of  talking  about  jus- 
tice to  the  down-trodden  and  the  power  of  the 
unions,  and  that  kind  of  stuff.  I  couldn't  un- 
derstand all  he  said  —  he's  got  a  funny  lingo, 
you  know;  I  guess  it's  Polack  —  but  I  got 
enough  to  know  what  he  meant,  and  more, 
too." 

"  Can  he  do  anything  ?  " 

"  I  don't  think  so.  If  we  get  after  him,  it'll 
just  set  him  worse'n  pig's  bristles.  A  man  like 
that'll  lose  his  head  over  nothing.  He  may  be 
all  right  in  the  morning." 

But  Hilda,  after  Max  had  given  her  the 
whole  conversation  as  nearly  as  he  could  re- 


220  Calumet  '*K'* 

member  it,  thought  diflFerently.  She  did  not 
speak  her  mind  out  to  Max,  because  she  was 
not  yet  certain  what  was  the  best  course  to 
take.  The  man  could  easily  make  trouble,  she 
saw  that.  But  if  Max  were  to  lay  the  matter 
before  Bannon,  he  would  be  likely  to  glide 
over  some  of  the  details  that  she  had  got  only 
by  close  questioning.  And  a  blunder  in  hand- 
ling it  might  be  fatal  to  the  elevator,  so  far  as 
getting  it  done  in  December  was  concerned. 
Perhaps  she  took  it  too  seriously;  for  she  was 
beginning,  in  spite  of  herself,  to  give  a  great 
deal  of  thought  to  the  work  and  to  Bannon. 
At  any  rate,  she  lay  awake  later  than  usual  that 
night,  going  over  the  problem,  and  she  brought 
it  up,  the  next  morning,  the  first  time  that  Ban- 
non came  into  the  office  after  Max  had  gone 
out. 

"  Mr.  Bannon,"  she  said,  when  he  had  fin- 
ished dictating  a  letter  to  the  office,  "  I  want 
to  tell  you  about  that  man  that  was  hurt." 

Bannon  tried  not  to  smile  at  the  nervous, 
almost  breathless  way  in  which  she  opened  the 
conversation.  He  saw  that,  whatever  it  was, 
it  seemed  to  her  very  important,  and  he  settled 
comfortably  on  the  table,  leaning  back  against 


Calumet  "K'*  221 

the  wall  with  his  legs  stretched  out  before  him. 
She  had  turned  on  her  stool. 

"  You  mean  the  hoist  man  ?  "  he  asked. 

She  nodded.  "  Max  goes  over  to  see  him 
sometimes.  We've  been  trying  to  help  make 
him  comfortable " 

"Oh,"  said  Bannon;  "it's  you  that's  been 
sending  those  things  around  to  him." 

She  looked  at  him  with  surprise. 

"  Why,  how  did  you  know  ?  " 

"  I  heard  about  it." 

Hilda  hesitated.  She  did  not  know  exactly 
how  to  begin.  It  occurred  to  her  that  perhaps 
Bannon  was  smiling  at  her  eager  manner. 

"  Max  was  there  last  night  and  he  said  the 
man  had  changed  all  around.  He's  been 
friendly,  you  know,  and  grateful  "  —  she  had 
forgotten  herself  again,  in  thinking  of  her  talk 
with  Max  —  "  and  he's  said  all  the  time  that 

he  wasn't  going  to  make  trouble "     She 

paused. 

"  Yes,  I  know  something  about  that,"  said 
Bannon.  "  The  lawyers  always  get  after  a 
man  that's  hurt,  you  know." 

"  But  last  night  he  had  changed  all  around. 
He  said  he  was  going  to  have  you  arrested. 


222  Calumet  ^^K 

He  thinks  Max  has  been  trying  to  buy  him  off 
with  the  things  we've  sent  him." 

Bannon  whistled. 

"  So  our  Mr.  Grady's  got  his  hands  on 
him!" 

"  That's  what  Max  and  I  thought,  but  he 
didn't  give  any  names.    He  wouldn't  take  the 

jelly." 

"  I'm  glad  you  told  me,"  said  Bannon, 
swinging  his  legs  around  and  sitting  up.  "  It's 
just  as  well  to  know  about  these  things. 
Grady's  made  him  think  he  can  make  a  good 
haul  by  going  after  me,  poor  fool  —  he  isn't 
the  man  that'll  get  it." 

"  Can  he  really  stop  the  work  ? "  Hilda 
asked  anxiously. 

"  Not  likely.  He'll  probably  try  to  make 
out  a  case  of  criminal  carelessness  against  me, 
and  get  me  jerked  up.  He  ought  to  have  more 
sense,  though.  I  know  how  many  sticks  were 
on  that  hoist  when  it  broke.  I'll  drop  around 
there  to-night  after  dinner  and  have  a  talk 
with  him.  I'd  like  to  find  Grady  there  —  but 
that's  too  good  to  expect." 

Hilda  had  stepped  down  from  the  stool,  and 
was  looking  out  through  the  half -cleaned  win- 


Calumet  "K''  223 

dow  at  a  long  train  of  freight  cars  that  was 
clanking  in  on  the  Belt  Line. 

"  That's  what  I  wanted  to  see  you  about 
most/'  she  said  slowly.  "  Max  says  he's  been 
warned  that  you'll  come  around  and  try  to 
buy  him  off,  and  it  won't  go,  because  he  can 
make  more  by  standing  out." 

"  Well,"  said  Bannon,  easily,  amused  at  her 
unconscious  drop  into  Max's  language, 
"  there's  usually  a  way  of  getting  after  these 
fellows.  We'll  do  anything  within  reason,  but 
we  won't  be  robbed.  I'll  throw  Mr.  Grady  into 
the  river  first,  and  hang  him  up  on  the  hoist  to 
dry." 

"  But  if  he  really  means  to  stand  out,"  she 
said,  "  wouldn't  it  hurt  us  for  you  to  go  around 
there?" 

"  Why  ?  "  He  was  openly  smiling  now. 
Then,  of  a  sudden,  he  looked  at  her  with  a 
shrewd,  close  gaze,  and  repeated,  "  Why  ?  " 

"  Maybe  I  don't  understand  it,"  she  said 
nervously.  "  Max  doesn't  think  I  see  things 
very  clearly.  But  I  thought  perhaps  you 
would  be  willing  for  me  to  see  him  this  even- 
ing.   I  could  go  with  Max,  and " 

She  faltered,  when  she  saw  how  closely  he 


224  Calumet  "^'* 

was  watching  her,  but  he  nodded,  and  said, 
"  Go  on." 

"  Why,  I  don't  know  that  I  could  do  much, 
but  —  no  '*  —  she  tossed  her  head  back  and 
looked  at  him  —  "I  won't  say  that.  If  you'll 
let  me  go,  I'll  fix  it.    I  know  I  can." 

Bannon  was  thinking  partly  of  her  —  of  her 
slight,  graceful  figure  that  leaned  against  the 
window  frame,  and  of  her  eyes,  usually  quiet, 
but  now  snapping  with  determination  —  and 
partly  of  certain  other  jobs  that  had  been  im- 
periled by  the  efforts  of  injured  workingmen  to 
get  heavy  damages.  One  of  the  things  his  ex- 
perience in  railroad  and  engineering  work  had 
taught  him  was  that  men  will  take  every  op- 
portunity to  bleed  a  corporation.  No  matter 
how  slight  the  accident,  or  how  temporary  in  its 
effects,  the  stupidest  workman  has  it  in  his 
power  to  make  trouble.  It  was  frankly  not  a 
matter  of  sentiment  to  Bannon.  He  would  do 
all  that  he  could,  would  gladly  make  the 
man's  sickness  actually  profit  him,  so  far  as 
money  would  go ;  but  he  did  not  see  justice  in 
the  great  sums  which  the  average  jury  will 
grant.  As  he  sat  there,  he  recognized  what 
Hilda  had  seen  at  a  flash,  that  this  was  a  case 
for  delicate  handling. 


Calumet  "TT"  225 

She  was  looking  at  him,  tremendously  in 
earnest,  yet  all  the  while  wondering  at  her  own 
boldness.     He  slowly  nodded. 

"  You're  right,''  he  said.  "  You're  the  one 
to  do  the  talking.  I  won't  ask  you  what  you're 
going  to  say.  I  guess  you  understand  it  as  well 
as  anybody." 

"  I  don't  know  yet,  myself,"  she  answered. 
"  It  isn't  that,  it  isn't  that  there's  something 
particular  to  say,  but  he's  a  poor  man,  and 
they've  been  telling  him  that  the  company  is 
cheating  him  and  stealing  from  him  —  I 
wouldn't  like  it  myself,  if  I  were  in  his  place 
and  didn't  know  any  more  than  he  does.  And 
maybe  I  can  show  him  that  we'll  be  a  good 
deal  fairer  to  him  before  we  get  through  than 
Mr.  Grady  will." 

"  Yes,"  said  Bannon,  "  I  think  you  can. 
And  if  you  can  keep  this  out  of  the  courts  I'll 
write  Brown  that  there's  a  young  lady  down 
here  that's  come  nearer  to  earning  a  big  salary 
than  I  ever  did  to  deserving  a  silk  hat." 

"  Oh,"  she  said,  the  earnest  expression  skip- 
ping abruptly  out  of  her  eyes ;  "  did  your  hat 


come 


?" 


Not  a  sign  of  it.    I'd  clean  forgotten.    I'll 

Q 


226  Calumet  ''K" 

giwt  Brown  one  more  warning  —  a  long  *  col- 
lect' telegram,  about  forty  words  —  and  then 
if  he  doesn't  toe  up,  I'll  get  one  and  send  him 
the  bill. 

"  There  was  a  man  that  looked  some  like 
Grady  worked  for  me  on  the  Galveston  house. 
He  was  a  carpenter,  and  thought  he  stood  for 
the  whole  Federation  of  Labor.  He  got  gay 
one  day.  I  warned  him  once,  and  then  I  threw 
him  off  the  distributing  floor." 

Hilda  thought  he  was  joking  until  she  looked 
up  and  saw  his  face. 

"  Didn't  it  —  didn't  it  kill  him?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  don't  remember  exactly.  I  think  there 
were  some  shavings  there."  He  stood  looking 
at  her  for  a  moment.  "  Do  you  know,"  he 
said,  "  if  Grady  comes  up  on  the  job  again,  I 
believe  I'll  tell  him  that  story?  I  wonder  if 
he'd  know  what  I  meant." 

The  spouting  house,  or  "river  house,"  was 
a  long,  narrow  structure,  one  hundred  feet  by 
thirty-six,  built  on  piles  at  the  edge  of  the 
wharf.  It  would  form,  with  the  connecting 
belt  gallery  that  was  to  reach  out  over  the 
tracks,  a  T-shaped  addition  to  the  elevator. 
The  river  house  was  no  higher  than  was  neces- 


Calumet  *'K'* 


227 


sary  for  the  spouts  that  would  drop  the  g^ain 
through  the  hatchways  of  the  big  lake  steam- 
ers, twenty  thousand  bushels  an  hour  —  it 
reached  between  sixty  and  seventy  feet  above 
the  water.  The  marine  tower  that  was  to  be 
built,  twenty- four  feet  square,  up  through  the 
centre  of  the  house,  would  be  more  than  twice 
as  high.  A  careful  examination  convinced 
Bannon  that  the  pile  foundations  would  prove 
strong  enough  to  support  this  heavier  structure, 
and  that  the  only  changes  necessary  would  be 
in  the  frame  of  the  spouting  house.  On  the 
same  day  that  the  plans  arrived,"  work  on  the 
tower  commenced. 

Peterson  had  about  got  to  the  point  where 
startling  developments  no  longer  alarmed  him. 
He  had  seen  the  telegram  the  day  before,  but 
his  first  information  that  a  marine  tower  was 
actually  under  way  came  when  Bannon  called 
off  a  group  of  laborers  late  in  the  afternoon  to 
rig  the  "trolley"  for  carrying  timber  across 
the  track. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do,  Charlie?"  he 
called.  "  Got  to  slide  them  timbers  back 
again  ?  " 

"  Some  of  'em,"  Bannon  replied. 


228  Calumet  *'K** 

"  Don't  you  think  we  could  carry  'em 
over?  "  said  Peterson.  "  If  we  was  quiet  about 
it,  they  needn't  be  any  trouble  ?  " 

Bannon  shook  his  head. 

"  We're  not  taking  any  more  chances  on  this 
railroad.    We  haven't  time." 

Once  more  the  heavy  timbers  went  swinging 
through  the  air,  high  over  the  tracks,  but  this 
time  back  to  the  wharf.  Before  long  the  sec- 
tion boss  of  the  C.  &  S.  C.  appeared,  and 
though  he  soon  went  away,  one  of  his  men  re- 
mained, lounging  about  the  tracks,  keeping  a 
close  eye  on  the  sagging  ropes  and  the  timbers. 
Bannon,  when  he  met  Peterson  a  few  minutes 
later,  pointed  out  the  man. 

"  What'd  I  tell  you,  Pete?  They're  watch- 
ing us  like  cats.  If  you  want  to  know  what 
the  C.  &  S.  C.  think  about  us,  you  just  drop 
one  timber  and  you'll  find  out." 

But  nothing  dropped,  and  when  Peterson, 
who  had  been  on  hand  all  the  latter  part  of 
the  afternoon,  took  hold,  at  seven  o'clock,  the 
first  timbers  of  the  tower  had  been  set  in  place, 
somewhere  down  inside  the  rough  shed  of  a 
spouting  house,  and  more  would  go  in  during 
the  night,  and  during  other  days  and  nights, 


Calumet  *'K''  229 

until  the  narrow  framework  should  go  reach- 
ing high  into  the  air.  Another  thing  was  rec- 
ognized by  the  men  at  work  on  that  night  shift, 
even  by  the  laborers  who  carried  timbers,  and 
grunted  and  swore  in  strange  tongues;  this 
was  that  the  night  shift  men  had  suddenly  be- 
gun to  feel  a  most  restless  energy  crowding 
them  on,  and  they  worked  nearly  as  well  as 
Bannon's  day  shifts.  For  Peterson's  spirits 
had  risen  with  a  leap,  once  the  misunderstand- 
ing that  had  been  weighing  on  him  had  been 
removed,  and  now  he  was  working  as  he  had 
never  worked  before.  The  directions  he  gave 
showed  that  his  head  was  clearer;  and  there 
w^as  confidence  in  his  manner. 

Hilda  was  so  serious  all  day  after  her  talk 
w^ith  Bannon  that  once,  in  the  afternoon,  when 
he  came  into  the  office  for  a  glance  at  the  new 
pile  of  blue  prints,  he  smiled,  and  asked  if  she 
were  laying  out  a  campaign.  It  was  the  first 
work  of  the  kind  that  she  had  ever  undertaken, 
and  she  was  a  little  worried  over  the  need  for 
tact  and  delicacy.  After  she  had  closed  her 
desk  at  supper  time,  she  saw  Bannon  come  into 
the  circle  of  the  electric  light  in  front  of  the 
office,  and,  asking  Max  to  wait,  she  went  to 
meet  him. 


230  Calumet  ''K** 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  are  you  loaded  up  to 
fight  the  *  power  of  the  union  '  ?  " 

She  smiled,  and  then  said,  with  a  trace  of 
nervousness :  — 

"  I  don't  believe  I'm  quite  so  sure  about  it  as 
I  was  this  morning." 

"  It  won't  bother  you  much.  When  you've 
made  him  see  that  we're  square  and  Grady 
isn't,  you've  done  the  whole  business.  We 
won't  pay  fancy  damages,  that's  all." 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  I  think  I  know.  What  I 
wanted  to  see  you  about  was  —  was  —  Max 
and  I  are  going  over  right  after  supper, 
and " 

She  stopped  abruptly;  and  Bannon,  looking 
down  at  her,  saw  a  look  of  embarrassment 
come  into  her  face ;  and  then  she  blushed,  and 
lowering  her  eyes,  fumbled  with  her  glove. 
Bannon  was  a  little  puzzled.  His  eyes  rested 
on  her  for  a  moment,  and  then,  without  un- 
derstanding why,  he  suddenly  knew  that  she 
had  meant  to  ask  him  to  see  her  after  the  visit, 
and  that  the  new  personal  something  in  their 
acquaintance  had  flashed  a  warning.  He  spoke 
quickly,  as  if  he  were  the  first  to  think  of  it. 

"  If  you  don't  mind,  I'll  come  around  to- 


Calumet  "K"  231 

night  and  hear  the  report  of  the  committee  of 
adjusters.  That's  you,  you  know.  Something 
might  come  up  that  I  ought  to  know  right 
away." 

"  Yes,"  she  repHed  rapidly,  without  looking 
up,  "  perhaps  that  would  be  the  best  thing  to 
do." 

He  walked  along  with  her  toward  the  office, 
where  Max  was  waiting,  but  she  did  not  say 
anything,  and  he  turned  in  with :  "  I  won't  say 
good-night,  then.     Good  luck  to  you." 

It  was  soon  after  eight  that  Bannon  went  to 
the  boarding-house  where  Hilda  and  Max 
lived,  and  sat  down  to  wait  in  the  parlor. 
When  a  quarter  of  an  hour  had  gone,  and  they 
had  not  returned,  he  buttoned  up  his  coat  and 
went  out,  walking  slowly  along  the  uneven 
sidewalk  toward  the  river.  The  night  was 
clear,  and  he  could  see,  across  the  flats  and 
over  the  tracks,  where  tiny  signal  lanterns  were 
waving  and  circling,  and  freight  trains  were 
bumping  and  rumbling,  the  glow  of  the  arc 
lamps  on  the  elevator,  and  its  square  outline 
against  the  sky.  Now  and  then,  when  the  noise 
of  the  switching  trains  let  down,  he  could  hear 
the  hoisting  engines.     Once  he  stopped  and 


232  Calumet  "^" 

looked  eastward  at  the  clouds  of  illuminated 
smoke  above  the  factories  and  at  the  red  blast 
of  the  rolling  mill.  He  went  nearly  to  the  river 
and  had  to  turn  back  and  walk  slowly.  Finally 
he  heard  Max's  laugh,  and  then  he  saw  them 
coming  down  a  side  street. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  "  you  don't  sound  like  bad 
news." 

"  I  don't  believe  we  are  very  bad,"  replied 
Hilda. 

"  Should  say  not,"  put  in  Max.  "  It's  finer'n 
silk." 

Hilda  said,  "  Max,"  in  a  low  voice,  but  he 
went  on :  — 

"  The  best  thing,  Mr.  Bannon,  was  when  I 
told  him  it  was  Hilda  that  had  been  sending 
things  around.  He  thought  it  was  you,  you 
see,  and  Grady'd  told  him  it  was  all  a  part  of  the 
game  to  bamboozle  him  out  of  the  money  that 
was  rightfully  his.  It's  funny  to  hear  him 
sling  that  Grady  talk  around.  I  don't  think 
he  more'n  half  knows  what  it  means.  I'd 
promised  not  to  tell,  you  know,  but  I  just  saw 
there  wasn't  no  use  trying  to  make  him  under- 
stand things  without  talking  pretty  plain. 
There  ain't  a  thing  he  wouldn't  do  for  Hilda 
now " 


Calumet  "^"  233 

"Max,"  said  Hilda  again,  "please  don't." 

When  they  reached  the  house,  Max  at  once 
started  in.    Hilda  hesitated,  and  then  said :  — 

"  I'll  come  in  a  minute,  Max." 

"Oh,"  he  replied,  "all  right."  But  he 
waited  a  moment  longer,  evidently  puzzled. 

"  Well,"  said  Bannon,  "  was  it  so  hard?  " 

"  No  —  not  hard  exactly.  I  didn't  know  he 
was  so  poor.  Somehow  you  don't  think  about 
it  that  way  when  you  see  them  working.  I 
don't  know  that  I  ever  thought  about  it  at  all 
before." 

"  You  think  he  won't  give  us  any  trouble  ?  " 

"  I'm  sure  he  won't.  I  —  I  had  to  promise 
I'd  go  again  pretty  soon." 

"  Maybe  you'll  let  me  go  along." 

"  Why  —  why,  yes,  of  course." 

She  had  been  hesitating,  looking  down  and 
picking  at  the  splinters  on  the  gate  post. 
Neither  was  Bannon  quick  to  speak.  He  did 
not  want  to  question  her  about  the  visit,  for  he 
saw  that  it  was  hard  for  her  to  talk  about  it. 
Finally  she  straightened  up  and  looked  at  him. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you,"  she  said,  "  I  haven't 
understood  exactly  until  to-night  —  what  they 
said  about  the  accident  and  the  way  you've 


234  Calumet  "AT" 

talked  about  it  —  well,  some  people  think  you 
don't  think  very  much  about  the  men,  and  that 
if  anybody's  hurt,  or  anything  happens,  you 
don't  care  as  long  as  the  work  goes  on."  She 
was  looking  straight  at  him.  "  I  thought  so, 
too.  And  to-night  I  found  out  some  things 
you've  been  doing  for  him  —  how  you've  been 
giving  him  tobacco,  and  the  things  he  likes  best 
that  I'd  never  have  thought  of,  and  I  knew  it 
was  you  that  did  it,  and  not  the  Company  — 
and  I  —  I  beg  your  pardon." 

Bannon  did  not  know  what  to  reply.  They 
stood  for  a  moment  without  speaking,  and  then 
she  smiled,  and  said  "  Good  night,"  and  ran 
up  the  steps  without  looking  around. 


CHAPTER   XIII 

It  was  the  night  of  the  tenth  of  December. 
Three  of  the  four  stories  of  the  cupola  were 
building,  and  the  upright  posts  were  reaching 
toward  the  fourth.  It  still  appeared  to  be  a 
confused  network  of  timbers,  with  only  the 
beginnings  of  walls,  but  as  the  cupola  walls  are 
nothing  but  a  shell  of  light  boards  to  withstand 
the  wind,  the  work  was  further  along  than 
might  have  been  supposed.  Down  on  the 
working  story  the  machinery  was  nearly  all 
in,  and  up  here  in  the  cupola  the  scales  and 
garners  were  going  into  place  as  rapidly  as  the 
completing  of  the  supporting  framework  per- 
mitted. The  cupola  floors  were  not  all  laid. 
If  you  had  stood  on  the  distributing  floor,  over 
the  tops  of  the  bins,  you  might  have  looked 
not  only  down  through  a  score  of  openings  be- 
tween plank  areas  and  piles  of  timbers,  into 
black  pits,  sixteen  feet  square  by  seventy  deep, 
a35 


236  Calumet  **K** 

but  upward  through  a  grill  of  girders  and 
joists  to  the  clear  sky.  Everywhere  men 
swarmed  over  the  work,  and  the  buzz  of  the 
electric  lights  and  the  sounds  of  hundreds  of 
hammers  blended  into  a  confused  hum. 

If  you  had  walked  to  the  east  end  of  the 
building,  here  and  there  balancing  along  a 
plank  or  dodging  through  gangs  of  laborers 
and  around  moving  timbers,  you  would  have 
seen  stretching  from  off  a  point  not  halfway 
through  to  the  ground,  the  annex  bins,  rising 
so  steadily  that  it  was  a  matter  only  of  a  few 
weeks  before  they  would  be  ready  to  receive 
grain.  Now  another  walk,  this  time  across  the 
building  to  the  north  side,  would  show  you 
the  river  house,  out  there  on  the  wharf,  and 
the  marine  tower  rising  up  through  the  middle 
with  a  single  arc  lamp  on  the  topmost  girder 
throwing  a  mottled,  checkered  shadow  on  the 
wharf  and  the  water  below. 

At  a  little  after  eight  o'clock,  Peterson,  who 
had  been  looking  at  the  stairway,  now  nearly 
completed,  came  out  on  the  distributing  floor. 
He  was  in  good  spirits,  for  everything  was 
going  well,  and  Bannon  had  frankly  credited 
him,  of  late,  with  the  improvement  in  the  work 


Calumet  "AT"  237 

of  the  night  shifts.  He  stood  looking  up 
through  the  upper  floors  of  the  cupola,  and  he 
did  not  see  Max  until  the  timekeeper  stood  be- 
side him. 

"  Hello,  Max,"  he  said.  "  We'll  have  the 
roof  on  here  in  another  ten  days." 

Max  followed  Peterson's  glance  upward. 

"  I  guess  that's  right.  It  begins  to  look 
as  if  things  was  coming  'round  all  right.  I 
just  come  up  from  the  office.  Mr.  Bannon's 
there.  He'll  be  up  before  long,  he  says.  I 
was  a-wondering  if  maybe  I  hadn't  ought  to 
go  back  and  tell  him  about  Grady.  He's 
around,  you  know." 

"Who?    Grady?" 

"  Yes.  Him  and  another  fellow  was  stand- 
ing down  by  one  of  the  cribbin'  piles.  I  was 
around  there  on  the  way  up." 

"What  was  they  doing?" 

"  Nothing.    Just  looking  on." 

Peterson  turned  to  shout  at  some  laborers, 
then  he  pushed  back  his  hat  and  scratched  his 
head. 

"  I  don't  know  but  what  you'd  ought  to  'a' 
told  Charlie  right  off.  That  man  Grady  don't 
mean  us  no  good." 


238  Calumet  *'K" 

"  I  know  it,  but  I  wasn't  just  sure." 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you " 

Before  Peterson  could  finish,  Max  broke 
in:  — 

"  That's  him." 

*^  Where?" 

"  That  fellow  over  there,  walking  along 
slow.    He's  the  one  that  was  with  Grady." 

"  I'd  like  to  know  what  he  thinks  he's  doing 
here."  Peterson  started  forward,  adding,  "  I 
guess  I  know  what  to  say  to  him." 

"  Hold  on,  Pete,"  said  Max,  catching  his 
arm.  "  Maybe  we'd  better  -speak  to  Mr.  Ban- 
non.  I'll  go  down  and  tell  him,  and  you  keep 
an  eye  on  this  fellow." 

Peterson  reluctantly  assented,  and  Max 
walked  slowly  away,  now  and  then  pausing  to 
look  around  at  the  men.  But  when  he  had 
nearly  reached  the  stairway,  where  he  could 
slip  behind  the  scaffolding  about  the  only  scale 
hopper  that  had  reached  a  man's  height  above 
the  floor,  he  moved  more  rapidly.  He  met 
Bannon  on  the  stairway,  and  told  him  what  he 
had  seen.  Bannon  leaned  against  the  wall  of 
the  stairway  bin,  and  looked  thoughtful. 

"  So  he's  come,  has  he^  "  was  his  only  com- 


Calumet  ''K"  239 

ment.  "  You  might  speak  to  Pete,  Max,  and 
bring  him  here.    I'll  wait." 

Max  and  Peterson  found  him  looking  over 
the  work  of  the  carpenters. 

"  I  may  not  be  around  much  to-night,"  he 
said,  with  a  wink,  "  but  Fd  like  to  see  both  of 
you  to-morrow  afternoon  some  time.  Can 
you  get  around  about  four  o'clock,  Pete?  " 

"  Sure,"  the  night  boss  replied. 

"  We've  got  some  thinking  to  do  about  the 
work,  if  we're  going  to  put  it  through.  I'll 
look  for  you  at  four  o'clock  then,  in  the  office." 
He  started  down  the  stairs.  "  I'm  going  home 
now." 

"  Why,"  said  Peterson,  "  you  only  just 
come." 

Bannon  paused  and  looked  back  over  his 
shoulder.  The  light  came  from  directly  over- 
head, and  the  upper  part  of  his  face  was  in  the 
shadow  of  his  hat  brim,  but  Max,  looking 
closely  at  him,  thought  that  he  winked  again. 

"  I  wanted  to  tell  you,"  the  foreman  went 
on ;  "  Grady's  come  around,  you  know  —  and 
another  fellow " 

"  Yes,  Max  told  me.  I  guess  they  won't 
hurt  you.    Good  night." 


240  Calumet  "K*' 

As  he  went  on  down  he  passed  a  group  of 
laborers  who  were  bringing  stairway  material 
to  the  carpenters. 

"  I  don't  know  but  what  you  was  talking 
pretty  loud,"  said  Max  to  Peterson,  in  a  low 
voice.    "  Here's  some  of  'em  now." 

"  They  didn't  hear  nothing,"  Peterson  re- 
plied, and  the  two  went  back  to  the  distributing 
floor.  They  stood  in  a  shadow,  by  the  scale 
hopper,  waiting  for  the  reappearance  of 
Grady's  companion.  He  had  evidently  gone 
on  to  the  upper  floors,  where  he  could  not  be 
distinguished  from  the  many  other  moving 
figures;  but  in  a  few  minutes  he  came  back, 
walking  deliberately  toward  the  stairs.  He 
looked  at  Peterson  and  Max,  but  passed  by 
without  a  second  glance,  and  descended. 
Peterson  stood  looking  after  him. 

"  Now,  I'd  like  to  know  what  Charlie  meant 
by  going  home,"  he  said. 

Max  had  been  thinking  hard.  Finally  he 
said :  — 

"  Say,  Pete,  we're  blind." 

"Why?" 

"  Did  you  think  he  was  going  home  ?  '* 

Peterson  looked  at  him,  but  did  not  reply. 


Calumet  "JST"  241 

"  Because  he  ain't." 

"  Well,  you  heard  what  he  said." 

"  What  does  that  go  for  ?  He  was  winking 
when  he  said  it.  He  wasnt  going  to  stand 
there  and  tell  the  laborers  all  about  it,  like  we 
was  trying  to  do.    I'll  bet  he  ain't  very  far  off." 

"  I  ain't  got  a  word  to  say,"  said  Peterson. 
"  If  he  wants  to  leave  Grady  to  me,  I  guess  I 
can  take  care  of  him." 

Max  had  come  to  the  elevator  for  a  short 
visit  —  he  liked  to  watch  the  work  at  night  — 
but  now  he  settled  down  to  stay,  keeping  about 
the  hopper  where  he  could  see  Grady  if  his 
head  should  appear  at  the  top  of  the  stairs. 
Something  told  him  that  Bannon  saw  deeper 
into  Grady's  manoeuvres  than  either  Peterson 
or  himself,  and  while  he  could  not  understand, 
yet  he  was  beginning  to  think  that  Grady  would 
appear  before  long,  and  that  Bannon  knew  it. 

Sure  enough,  only  a  few  minutes  had  gone 
when  Max  turned  back  from  a  glance  at  the 
marine  tower  and  saw  the  little  delegate  stand- 
ing on  the  top  step,  looking  about  the  distrib- 
uting floor  and  up  through  the  girders  over- 
head, with  quick,  keen  eyes.  Then  Max 
understood   what   it   all   meant:    Grady   had 


242  Calumet  ''K" 

chosen  a  time  when  Bannon  was  least  likely  to 
be  on  the  job;  and  had  sent  the  other  man 
ahead  to  reconnoitre.  It  meant  mischief  — 
Max  could  see  that;  and  he  felt  a  boy's  ner- 
vousness at  the  prospect  of  excitement.  He 
stepped  farther  back  into  the  shadow. 

Grady  was  looking  about  for  Peterson; 
when  he  saw  his  burly  figure  outlined  against 
a  light  at  the  farther  end  of  the  building,  he 
walked  directly  toward  him,  not  pausing  this 
time  to  talk  to  the  laborers  or  to  look  at  them. 
Max,  moving  off  a  little  to  one  side,  followed, 
and  reached  Peterson's  side  just  as  Grady,  his 
hat  pushed  back  on  his  head  and  his  feet  apart, 
was  beginning  to  talk. 

"  I  had  a  little  conversation  with  you  the 
other  day,  Mr.  Peterson.  I  called  to  see  you  in 
the  interests  of  the  men,  the  men  that  are  work- 
ing for  you  —  working  like  galley  slaves  they 
are,  every  man  of  them.  It's  shameful  to  a  man 
that's  seen  how  they've  been  treated  by  the 
nigger  drivers  that  stands  over  them  day  and 
night."  He  was  speaking  in  a  loud  voice,  with 
the  fluency  of  a  man  who  is  carefully  pre- 
pared. There  was  none  of  the  bitterness  or  the 
ugliness  in  his  manner  that  had  slipped  out  in 


Calumet  ''K''  243 

his  last  talk  with  Bannon,  for  he  knew  that  a 
score  of  laborers  were  within  hearing,  and  that 
his  words  would  travel,  as  if  by  wire,  from 
mouth  to  mouth  about  the  building  and  the 
grounds  below.  "  I  stand  here,  Mr.  Peterson, 
the  man  chosen  by  these  slaves  of  yours,  to 
look  after  their  rights.  I  do  not  ask  you  to 
treat  them  with  kindness,  I  do  not  ask  that  you 
treat  them  as  gentlemen.  What  do  I  ask?  I 
demand  what's  accorded  to  them  by  the  Con- 
stitution of  the  United  States  and  the  Dec- 
laration of  Independence,  that  says  even  a 
nigger  has  more  rights  than  youVe  given  to 
these  men,  the  men  that  are  putting  money 
into  your  pocket,  and  Mr.  Bannon's  pocket, 
and  the  corporation's  pocket,  by  the  sweat  of 
their  brows.  Look  at  them;  will  you  look  at 
them?"  He  waved  his  arm  toward  the  near- 
est group,  who  had  stopped  working  and  were 
listening ;  and  then,  placing  a  cigar  in  his  mouth 
and  tilting  it  upward,  he  struck  a  match  and 
sheltered  it  in  his  hands,  looking  over  it  for  a 
moment  at  Peterson. 

The  night  boss  saw  by  this  time  that  Grady 
meant  business,  that  his  speech  was  prelimi- 
nary to  something  more  emphatic,  and  he  knew 


244  Calumet  **K** 

that  ke  ought  to  stop  it  before  the  laborers 
should  be  demoralized. 

"  You  can't  do  that  here,  Mister,"  said  Max, 
over  Peterson's  shoulder,  indicating  the  cigar. 

Grady  still  held  the  match,  and  looked  im- 
pudently across  the  tip  of  his  cigar.  Peterson 
took  it  up  at  once. 

"You'll  have  to  drop  that,"  he  said. 
"  There's  no  smoking  on  this  job." 

The  match  had  gone  out,  and  Grady  lighted 
another. 

"  So  that's  one  of  your  rules,  too?  "  he  said, 
in  the  same  loud  voice.  "  It's  a  wonder  you 
let  a  man  eat." 

Peterson  was  growing  angry.  His  voice 
rose  as  he  talked. 

"  I  ain't  got  time  to  talk  to  you,"  he  said. 
"  The  insurance  company  says  there  can't  be 
no  smoking  here.  If  you  want  to  know  why, 
you'd  better  ask  them." 

Grady  blew  out  the  match  and  returned  the 
cigar  to  his  pocket,  with  an  air  of  satisfaction 
that  Peterson  could  not  make  out. 

"That's  all  right,  Mr.  Peterson.  I  didn't 
come  here  to  make  trouble.  I  come  here  as  a 
representative    of    these    men "  —  he    waved 


Calumet  "K**  245 

again  toward  the  laborers  —  "  and  I  say  right 
here,  that  if  you'd  treated  them  right  in  the 
first  place,  I  wouldn't  be  here  at  all.  I've 
wanted  you  to  have  a  fair  show.  I've  put  up 
with  your  mean  tricks  and  threats  and  insults 
ever  since  you  begun  —  and  why  ?  Because  I 
wouldn't  delay  you  and  hurt  the  work.  It's 
the  industries  of  to-day,  the  elevators  and  rail- 
roads, and  the  work  of  strong  men  like  these 
that's  the  bulwark  of  America's  greatness.  But 
what  do  I  get  in  return.  Mister  Peterson?  I 
come  up  here  as  a  gentleman  and  talk  to  you. 
I  treat  you  as  a  gentleman.  I  overlook  what 
youVe  showed  yourself  to  be.  And  how  do 
you  return  it  ?  By  talking  like  the  blackguard 
you  are  —  you  knock  an  innocent  cigar " 

"  Your  time's  up ! "  said  Pete,  drawing  a 
step  nearer.  "  Come  to  business,  or  clear  out. 
That's  all  I've  got  to  say  to  you." 

"  All  right.  Mister  Peterson  —  all  right.  I'll 
put  up  with  your  insults.  I  can  afford  to  for- 
get myself  when  I  look  about  me  at  the 
heavier  burdens  these  men  have  to  bear,  day 
and  night.  Look  at  that  —  look  at  it,  and  then 
try  to  talk  to  me." 

He  pointed  back  toward  the  stairs  where  a 


246  Calumet  ''K'' 

gang  of  eight  laborers  were  carrying  a  heavy 
timber  across  the  shadowy  floor. 

"Well,  what  about  it?"  said  Pete,  with 
half -controlled  rage. 

"  What  about  it !  But  never  mind.  I'm  a 
busy  man  myself.  I've  got  no  more  time  to 
waste  on  the  likes  of  you.  Take  a  good  look 
at  that,  and  then  listen  to  me.  That's  the  last 
stick  of  timber  that  goes  across  this  floor  until 
you  put  a  runway  from  the  hoist  to  the  end  of 
the  building.  And  every  stick  that  leaves  the 
runway  has  got  to  go  on  a  dolly.  Mark  my 
words  now  —  I'm  talking  plain.  My  men 
don't  lift  another  pound  of  timber  on  this 
house  —  everything  goes  on  rollers.  I've  tried 
to  be  a  patient  man,  but  you've  run  against  the 
limit.  You've  broke  the  last  back  you'll  have 
a  chance  at."  He  put  his  hand  to  his  mouth 
as  if  to  shout  at  the  gang,  but  dropped  it  and 
faced  around.  "  No,  I  won't  stop  them.  I'll 
be  fair  to  the  last."  He  pulled  out  his  watch. 
"  I'll  give  you  one  hour  from  now.  At  ten 
o'clock,  if  your  runway  and  the  dollies  ain't 
working,  the  men  go  out.  And  the  next  time 
I  see  you,  I  won't  be  so  easy." 

He  turned  away,  waved  to  the  laborers,  with 


Calumet  ''K'*  247 

an,  "  All  right,  boys ;  go  ahead,"  and  walked 
grandly  toward  the  stairway. 

Max  whistled. 

\"  I'd  like  to  know  where  Charlie  is,"  said 
Peterson. 

"He  ain't  far.  I'll  find  him;"  and  Max 
hurried  away. 

Bannon  was  sitting  in  the  office  chair  with 
his  feet  on  the  draughting-table,  figuring  on 
the  back  of  a  blotter.  The  light  from  the  wall 
lamp  was  indistinct,  and  Bannon  had  to  bend 
his  head  forward  to  see  the  figures.  He  did 
not  look  up  when  the  door  opened  and  Max 
came  to  the  railing  gate. 

"  Grady's  been  up  on  the  distributing  floor," 
said  Max,  breathlessly,  for  he  had  been  running. 

"What  did  he  want?" 

"  He's  going  to  call  the  men  off  at  ten  o'clock 
if  we  don't  put  in  a  runway  and  dollies  on  the 
distributing  floor." 

Bannon  looked  at  his  watch. 

"Is  that  all  he  wants?" 

Max,  in  his  excitement,  did  not  catch  the 
sarcasm  in  the  question. 

"  That's  all  he  said,  but  it's  enough.  We 
can't  do  it" 


248  Calumet  "^" 

Bannon  closed  his  watch  with  a  snap. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  and  we  won't  throw  away 
any  good  time  trying.  You'd  better  round  up 
the  committee  that's  supposed  to  run  this  lodge 
and  send  them  here.  That  young  Murphy's 
one  of  them  —  he  can  put  you  straight.  Bring 
Pete  back  with  you,  and  the  new  man,  James." 

Max  lingered,  with  a  look  of  awe  and  admi- 
ration. 

"  Are  you  going  to  stand  out,  Mr.  Ban- 
non? "  he  asked. 

Bannon  dropped  his  feet  to  the  floor,  and 
turned  toward  the  table. 

"  Yes,"  he  said.  "  We're  going  to  stand 
out." 

Since  Bannon's  talk  with  President  Carver 
a  little  drama  had  been  going  on  in  the  local 
lodge,  a  drama  that  neither  Bannon,  Max,  nor 
Peterson  knew  about.  James  had  been  selected 
by  Carver  for  this  work  because  of  proved 
ability  and  shrewdness.  He  had  no  sooner 
attached  himself  to  the  lodge,  and  made  him- 
self known  as  an  active  member,  than  his  per- 
sonality, without  any  noticeable  effort  on  his 
part,  began  to  make  itself  felt.  Up  to  this 
time  Grady  had  had  full  swing,  for  there  had 


Calumet  "K**  249 

been  no  one  among  the  laborers  with  force 
enough  to  oppose  him. 

The  first  colHsion  took  place  at  an  early 
meeting  after  Grady's  last  talk  with  Bannon. 
The  delegate,  in  the  course  of  the  meeting, 
bitterly  attacked  Bannon,  accusing  him,  at  the 
climax  of  his  oration,  of  an  attempt  to  buy  off 
the  honest  representative  of  the  working  classes 
for  five  thousand  dollars.  This  had  a  tremen- 
dous effect  on  the  excitable  minds  before  him. 
He  finished  his  speech  with  an  impassioned  ti- 
rade against  the  corrupt  influences  of  the  money 
power,  and  was  mopping  his  flushed  face,  lis- 
tening with  elation  to  the  hum  of  anger  that 
resulted,  confident  that  he  had  made  his  point, 
when  James  arose.  The  new  man  was  as  famil- 
iar with  the  tone  of  the  meetings  of  laborers 
as  Grady  himself.  At  the  beginning  he  had 
no  wish  further  than  to  get  at  the  truth. 
Grady  had  not  stated  his  case  well.  It  had 
convinced  the  laborers,  but  to  James  it  had 
weak  points.  He  asked  Grady  a  few  pointed 
questions,  that,  had  the  delegate  felt  the  truth 
behind  him,  should  not  have  been  hard  to 
answer.  But  Grady  was  still  under  the  spell 
of  his  own  oratory,  and  in  attempting  to  get 


250  Calumet  "K'* 

his  feet  back  on  the  ground,  he  bungled. 
James  did  not  carry  the  discussion  beyond  the 
point  where  Grady,  in  the  bewilderment  of 
recognizing  this  new  element  in  the  lodge,  lost 
his  temper,  but  when  he  sat  down,  the  senti- 
ment of  the  meeting  had  changed.  Few  of 
those  men  could  have  explained  their  feelings; 
it  was  simply  that  the  new  man  was  stronger 
than  they  were,  perhaps  as  strong  as  Grady, 
and  they  were  influenced  accordingly. 

There  was  no  decision  for  a  strike  at  that 
meeting.  Grady,  cunning  at  the  business,  im- 
mediately dropped  open  discussion,  and,  smart- 
ing under  the  sense  of  lost  prestige,  set  about 
regaining  his  position  by  well-planned  talk  with 
individual  laborers.  This  went  on,  largely 
without  James'  knowledge,  until  Grady  felt 
sure  that  a  majority  of  the  men  were  back  in 
his  control.  This  time  he  was  determined  to 
carry  through  the  strike  without  the  prelimi- 
nary vote  of  the  men.  It  was  a  bold  stroke, 
but  boldness  was  needed  to  defeat  Charlie  Ban- 
non ;  and  nobody  knew  better  than  Grady  that 
a  dashing  show  of  authority  would  be  hard  for 
James  or  any  one  else  to  resist. 

And  so  he  had  come  on  the  job  this  evening, 


Calumet  "^"  251 

at  a  time  when  he  supposed  Bannon  safe  in  bed, 
and  deUvered  his  ultimatum.  Not  that  he  had 
any  hope  of  carrying  the  strike  through  with- 
out some  sort  of  a  colHsion  with  the  boss,  but 
he  well  knew  that  an  encounter  after  the  strike 
had  gathered  momentum  would  be  easier  than 
one  before.  Bannon  might  be  able  to  outwit 
an  individual,  even  Grady  himself,  but  he 
would  find  it  hard  to  make  headway  against 
an  angry  mob.  And  now  Grady  was  pacing 
stiffly  about  the  Belt  Line  yards,  while  the  min- 
ute hand  of  his  watch  crept  around  toward  ten 
o'clock.  Even  if  Bannon  should  be  called 
within  the  hour,  a  few  fiery  words  to  those 
sweating  gangs  on  the  distributing  floor  should 
carry  the  day.  But  Grady  did  not  think  that 
this  would  be  necessary.  He  was  still  in  the 
mistake  of  supposing  that  Peterson  and  the 
boss  were  at  outs,  and  he  had  arrived,  by  a 
sort  of  reasoning  that  seemed  the  keenest 
strategy,  at  the  conclusion  that  Peterson  would 
take  the  opportunity  to  settle  the  matter  him- 
self. In  fact,  Grady  had  evolved  a  neat  little 
campaign,  and  he  was  proud  of  himself. 

Bannon  did  not  have  to  wait  long.     Soon 
there  was  a  sound  of  feet  outside  the  door,  and 


252  Calumet  *'K* 

after  a  little  hesitation,  six  laborers  entered, 
five  of  them  awkwardly  and  timidly,  wonder- 
ing what  was  to  come.  Peterson  followed, 
with  Max,  and  closed  the  door.  The  members 
of  the  committee  stood  in  a  straggling  row  at 
the  railing,  looking  at  each  other  and  at  the 
floor  and  ceiling  —  anywhere  but  at  the  boss, 
who  was  sitting  on  the  table,  sternly  taking 
them  in.    James  stepped  to  one  side. 

"  Is  this  all  the  committee?  "  Bannon  pres- 
ently said. 

The  men  hesitated,  and  Murphy,  who  was  in 
the  centre,  answered,  "  Yes,  sir." 

"  You  are  the  governing  members  of  your 
lodge?" 

There  was  an  air  of  cool  authority  about 
Bannon  that  disturbed  the  men.  They  had 
been  led  to  believe  that  his  power  reached  only 
the  work  on  the  elevator,  and  that  an  attempt 
on  his  part  to  interfere  in  any  way  with  their 
organization  would  be  an  act  of  high-handed 
tyranny,  "to  be  resisted  to  the  death"  (Grady's 
words).  But  these  men  standing  before  their 
boss,  in  his  own  office,  were  not  the  same  men 
that  thrilled  with  righteous  wrath  under 
Grady's  eloquence  in  the  meetings  over  Barry's 


Calumet  ''K"  253 

saloon.  So  they  looked  at  the  floor  and  ceiling 
again,  until  Murphy  at  last  answered :  — 

"  Yes,  sir." 

Bannon  waited  again,  knowing  that  every 
added  moment  of  silence  gave  him  the  firmer 
control. 

"  I  have  nothing  to  say  about  the  government 
of  your  organization,"  he  said,  speaking  slowly 
and  coldly.  "  I  have  brought  you  here  to  ask 
you  this  question.  Have  you  voted  to  strike?  " 

The  silence  was  deep.  Peterson,  leaning 
against  the  closed  door,  held  his  breath ;  Max, 
sitting  on  the  railing  with  his  elbow  thrown 
over  the  desk,  leaned  slightly  forward.  The 
eyes  of  the  laborers  wandered  restlessly  about 
the  room.  They  were  disturbed,  taken  off  their 
guard;  they  needed  Grady.  But  the  thought 
of  Grady  was  followed  by  the  consciousness  of 
the  silent  figure  of  the  new  man,  James,  stand- 
ing behind  them.  Murphy's  first  impulse  was 
to  lie.  Perhaps,  if  James  had  not  been  there, 
he  would  have  lied.  As  it  was,  he  glanced  up 
two  or  three  times,  and  his  lips  as  many  times 
framed  themselves  about  words  that  did  not 
come.  Finally  he  said,  mumbling  the  words :  — 

"  No,  we  ain't  voted  for  no  strike." 


254  Calumet  ''K" 

"  There  has  been  no  such  decision  made  by 
your  organization?" 

"  No,  I  guess  not." 

Bannon  turned  to  Peterson. 

"  Mr.  Peterson,  will  you  please  find  Mn 
Grady  and  bring  him  here." 

Max  and  Peterson  hurried  out  together. 
Bannon  drew  up  the  chair,  and  turned  his  back 
on  the  committee,  going  on  with  his  figuring. 
Not  a  word  was  said;  the  men  hardly  moved; 
and  the  minutes  went  slowly  by.  Then  there 
was  a  stir  outside,  and  the  sound  of  low  voices. 
The  door  flew  open,  admitting  Grady,  who 
stalked  to  the  railing,  choking  with  anger. 
Max,  who  immediately  followed,  was  grin- 
ning, his  eyes  resting  on  a  round  spot  of  dust 
on  Grady's  shoulder,  and  on  his  torn  collar  and 
disarranged  tie.  Peterson  came  in  last,  and 
carefully  closed  the  door  —  his  eyes  were  blaz- 
ing, and  one  sleeve  was  rolled  up  over  his  bare 
forearm.  Neither  of  them  spoke.  If  anything 
in  the  nature  of  an  assault  had  seemed  neces- 
sary in  dragging  the  delegate  to  the  office, 
there  had  been  no  witnesses.  And  he  had  en- 
tered the  room  of  his  own  accord. 

Grady  was  at  a  disadvantage,  and  he  knew 


Calumet  ''K  *  255 

it.  Breathing  hard,  his  face  red,  his  little  eyes 
darting  about  the  room,  he  took  it  all  in  —  the 
members  of  the  committee;  the  boss,  figuring 
at  the  table,  with  an  air  of  exasperating  cool- 
ness about  his  lean  back ;  and  last  of  all,  James, 
standing  in  the  shadow.  It  was  the  sight  of 
the  new  man  that  checked  the  storm  of  words 
that  was  pressing  on  Grady's  tongue.  But  he 
finally  gathered  himself  and  stepped  forward, 
pushing  aside  one  of  the  committee. 

Then  Bannon  turned.  He  faced  about  in 
his  chair  and  began  to  talk  straight  at  the  com- 
mittee, ignoring  the  delegate.  Grady  began 
to  talk  at  the  same  time,  but  though  his  voice 
was  the  louder,  no  one  seemed  to  hear  him. 
The  men  were  looking  at  Bannon.  Grady 
hesitated,  started  again,  and  then,  bound  by 
his  own  rage  and  his  sense  of  defeat,  kt  his 
words  die  away,  and  stood  casting  about  for 
an  opening. 

"  —  This  man  Grady  threatened  a  good 
while  ago  that  I  would  have  a  strike  on  my 
hands.  He  finally  came  to  me  and  offered  to 
protect  me  if  I  would  pay  him  five  thousand 
dollars." 

"  That's  a  lie !  "  shouted  the  delegate.  "  He 
come  to  me " 


256  Calumet  "if" 

Bannon  had  hardly  paused.  He  drew  a 
typewritten  copy  of  Grady's  letter  from  his 
pocket,  and  read  it  aloud,  then  handed  it  over 
to  Murphy.  "  That's  the  way  he  came  at  me. 
I  want  you  to  read  it." 

The  man  took  it  a^vlcwardly,  glanced  at  it, 
and  passed  it  on. 

"  To-night  he's  ordered  a  strike.  He  calls 
himself  your  representative,  but  he  has  acted 
on  his  own  responsibility.  Now,  I  am  going 
to  talk  plain  to  you.  I  came  here  to  build  this 
elevator,  and  I'm  going  to  do  it.  I  propose  to 
treat  you  men  fair  and  square.  If  you  think 
you  ain't  treated  right,  you  send  an  honest  man 
to  this  office,  and  I'll  talk  with  him.  But  I'm 
through  with  Grady.  I  won't  have  him  here 
at  all.  If  you  send  him  around  again,  I'll  throw 
him  off  the  job."^ 

The  men  were  a  little  startled.  They  looked 
at  one  another,  and  the  man  on  Murphy's  left 
whispered  something.  Bannon  sat  still,  watch- 
ing them. 

Then  Grady  came  to  himself.  He  wheeled 
around  to  face  the  committee,  and  threw  out 
one  arm  in  a  wide  gesture. 

"  I  demand  to  know  what  this  means !     I 


"I'll  tell  you  what  i  want  you  to  do" 


Calumet  "K'*  257 

demand  to  know  if  there  is  a  law  in  this  land ! 
Is  an  honest  man,  the  representative  of  the 
hand  of  labor,  to  be  attacked  by  hired  ruffians  ? 
Is  he  to  be  slandered  by  the  tyrant  who  drives 
you  at  the  point  of  the  pistol?  And  you  not 
men  enough  to  defend  your  rights  —  the  rights 
held  by  every  American  —  the  rights  granted 
by  the  Constitution !  But  it  ain't  for  myself  I 
would  talk.  It  ain't  my  own  injuries  that  I 
suffer  for.  Your  liberty  hangs  in  the  bal- 
ance. This  man  has  dared  to  interfere  in 
the  integrity  of  your  lodge.  Have  you  no 
words " 

Bannon  arose,  caught  Grady's  arm,  and 
whirled  him  around. 

"  Grady,"  he  said,  "  shut  up." 

The  delegate  tried  to  jerk  away,  but  he 
could  not  shake  off  that  grip.  He  looked 
toward  the  committeemen,  but  they  were 
silent.  He  looked  everywhere  but  up  into  the 
eyes  that  were  blazing  down  at  him.  And 
finally  Bannon  felt  the  muscles  within  his  grip 
relax. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I  want  you  to  do,"  said 
Bannon  to  the  committeemen.  "  I  want  you  to 
elect  a  new  delegate.    Don't  talk  about  inter- 


258  Calumet  ''K'* 

ference  —  I  don't  care  how  you  elect  him,  or 
who  he  is,  if  he  comes  to  me  squarely." 

Grady  was  wriggling  again. 

"  This  means  a  strike !  "  he  shouted.  "  This 
means  the  biggest  strike  the  West  has  ever 
seen!  You  won't  get  men  for  love  or 
money *' 

Bannon  gave  the  arm  a  wrench,  and  broke 
in:  — 

"  I'm  sick  of  this.  I  laid  this  matter  before 
President  Carver.  I  have  his  word  that  if  you 
hang  on  to  this  man  after  he's  been  proved  a 
blackmailer,  your  lodge  can  be  dropped  from 
the  Federation.  If  you  try  to  strike,  you  won't 
hurt  anybody  but  yourselves.  That's  all.  You 
can  go." 

"  Wait "  Grady  began,  but  they  filed 

out  without  looking  at  him.  James,  as  he  fol- 
lowed them,  nodded,  and  said,  "  Good  night, 
Mr.  Bannon." 

Then  for  the  last  time  Bannon  led  Grady 
away.  Peterson  started  forward,  but  the  boss 
shook  his  head,  and  went  out,  marching  the 
delegate  between  the  lumber  piles  to  the  point 
where  the  path  crossed  the  Belt  Line  tracks. 

"  Now,  Mr.  Grady,"  he  said,  "  this  is  where 


Calumet  ''K''  259 

our  ground  stops.  The  other  sides  are  the 
road  there,  and  the  river,  and  the  last  piles  of 
cribbing  at  the  other  end.  I'm  telling  you  so 
you  will  know  where  you  don't  belong.  Now, 
get  out!" 


CHAPTER   XIV 

The  effect  of  the  victory  was  felt  every- 
where. Not  only  were  Max  and  Pete  and 
Hilda  jubilant  over  it,  but  the  under-foremen, 
the  timekeepers,  even  the  laborers  attacked 
their  work  with  a  fresher  energy.  It  was  like 
the  first  whiff  of  salt  air  to  an  army  march- 
ing to  the  sea.  Since  the  day  when  the  crib- 
bing came  down  from  Ledyard,  the  work  had 
gone  forward  with  almost  incredible  rapidity; 
there  had  been  no  faltering  during  the  weeks 
when  Grady's  threatened  catastrophe  was  im- 
minent, but  now  that  the  big  shadow  of  the 
little  delegate  was  dispelled,  it  was  easier  to 
see  that  the  huge  warehouse  was  almost  fin- 
ished. There  was  still  much  to  do,  and  the 
handful  of  days  that  remained  seemed  absurdly 
inadequate ;  but  it  needed  only  a  glance  at  what 
Charlie  Bannon's  tireless,  driving  energy  had 
already  accomplished  to  make  the  rest  look 
260 


Calumet  "K**  261 

easy.  "  We're  sure  of  it  now.  She'll  be  full 
to  the  roof  before  the  year  is  out."  As  Max 
went  over  the  job  with  his  time-book  next 
morning,  he  said  it  to  every  man  he  met,  and 
they  all  believed  him.  Peterson,  the  same  man 
and  not  the  same  man  either,  who  had  once 
vowed  that  there  wouldn't  be  any  night  work 
on  Calumet  K,  who  had  bent  a  pair  of  most 
unwilling  shoulders  to  the  work  Bannon  had 
put  upon  them,  who  had  once  spent  long, 
sulky  afternoons  in  the  barren  little  room  of 
his  new  boarding-house ;  Peterson  held  himself 
down  in  bed  exactly  three  hours  the  morning 
after  that  famous  victory.  Before  eleven 
o'clock  he  was  sledging  down  a  tottering  tim- 
ber at  the  summit  of  the  marine  tower,  a  hun- 
dred and  forty  feet  sheer  above  the  wharf.  Just 
before  noon  he  came  into  the  office  and  found 
Hilda  there  alone. 

He  had  stopped  outside  the  door  to  put  on 
his  coat,  but  had  not  buttoned  it;  his  shirt, 
wet  as  though  he  had  been  in  the  lake,  clung  to 
him  and  revealed  the  outline  of  every  muscle 
in  his  great  trunk.  He  flung  his  hat  on  the 
draughting-table,  and  his  yellow  hair  seemed 
crisper  and  curlier  than  ever  before. 


262  Calumet  "iT" 

;  "  Well,  it  looks  as  though  we  was  all  right/' 
he  said. 

Hilda  nodded  emphatically.  "  You  think 
we'll  get  through  in  time,  don't  you,  Mr.  Pe- 
terson ?  " 

"  Think !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  I  don't  have  to 
stop  to  think.  Here  comes  Max;  just  ask 
him." 

Max  slammed  the  door  behind  him,  brought 
down  the  timekeeper's  book  on  Hilda's  desk 
with  a  slap  that  made  her  jump,  and  vaulted  to 
a  seat  on  the  railing.  "  Well,  I  guess  it's  a 
case  of  hurrah  for  us,  ain't  it,  Pete?  " 

"  Your  sister  asked  me  if  I  thought  we'd 
get  done  on  time.  I  was  just  saying  it's  a  sure 
thing." 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  Max,  laughing.  "  I 
guess  an  earthquake  could  stop  us.  But  why 
ain't  you  abed,  Pete?  " 

"  What  do  I  want  to  be  abed  for?  I  ain't  go- 
ing to  sleep  any  more  this  year  —  unless  we  get 
through  a  day  or  two  ahead  of  time.  I  don't 
like  to  miss  any  of  it.  Charlie  Bannon  may 
have  hustled  before,  but  I  guess  this  breaks  his 
record.    Where  is  he  now,  Max?  " 

"  Down  in  the  cellar  putting  in  the  running 


Calumet  ''K"  263 

gear  for  the  'cross-the-house  conveyors.  He 
has  his  nerve  with  him.  He's  putting  in  three 
drives  entirely  different  from  the  way  they  are 
in  the  plans.  He  told  me  just  now  that  there 
wasn't  a  man  in  the  office  who  could  design  a 
drive  that  wouldn't  tie  itself  up  in  square  knots 
in  the  first  ten  minutes.  I  wonder  what  old 
MacBride'll  say  when  he  sees  that  he's  changed 
the  plans." 

"  If  MacBride  has  good  sense,  he'll  pass  any- 
thing that  Charlie  puts  up,"  said  Pete. 

He  was  going  to  say  more,  but  just  then 
Bannon  strode  into  the  office  and  over  to  the 
draughting  table.  He  tossed  Pete's  hat  to  one 
side  and  began  studying  a  detail  of  the  ma- 
chinery plans. 

*^  Max."  He  spoke  without  looking  up.  "  I 
wish  you'd  find  a  water  boy  and  send  him  up  to 
the  hotel  to  get  a  couple  of  sandwiches  and  a 
bottle  of  coffee." 

"  Well,  that's  a  nice  way  to  celebrate,  I  must 
say,"  Pete  commented. 

"Celebrate  what?" 

"Why,  last  night;  throwing  Grady  down. 
You  ought  to  take  a  day  off  on  the  strength  of 
that." 


264  Calumet  ''K" 

"  Whaf  s  Grady  got  to  do  with  it  ?  He  ain't 
in  the  specifications." 

"  No,"  said  Pete,  slowly ;  "  but  where  would 
we  have  been  if  he'd  got  the  men  off?  " 

"  Where  would  we  have  been  if  the  house 
had  burned  up?"  Bannon  retorted,  turning 
away  from  the  table.  "  That's  got  nothing  to 
do  with  it  I  haven't  felt  less  like  taking  a  day 
off  since  I  came  on  the  job.  We  may  get 
through  on  time  and  we  may  not.  If  we  get 
tangled  up  in  the  plans  like  this,  very  often,  I 
don't  know  how  we'll  come  out.  But  the 
surest  way  to  get  left  is  to  begin  now  telling 
ourselves  that  this  is  easy  and  it's  a  cinch. 
That  kind  of  talk  makes  me  tired." 

Pete  flushed,  started  an  explanatory  sen- 
tence, and  another,  and  then,  very  uncomfort- 
able, went  out. 

Bannon  did  not  look  up ;  he  went  on  study- 
ing the  blue  print,  measuring  here  and  there 
with  his  three-sided  ruler  and  jotting  down 
incomprehensible  operations  in  arithmetic  on  a 
scrap  of  paper.  Max  was  figuring  tables  in  his 
time-book,  Hilda  poring  over  the  cash  account. 
For  half  an  hour  no  one  spoke.  Max  crammed 
his  cap  down  over  his  ears  and  went  out,  and 


Calumet  "^"  265 

there  were  ten  minutes  more  of  silence.  Then 
Bannon  began  talking.  He  still  busied  his 
fingers  with  the  blue  print,  and  Hilda,  after 
discovering  that  he  was  talking  to  himself 
rather  than  to  her,  went  on  with  her  work. 
But  nevertheless  she  heard,  in  a  fragmentary- 
way,  what  he  was  saying. 

"  Take  a  day  off  —  schoolboy  trick  — 
enough  to  make  a  man  tired.  Might  as  well 
do  it,  though.  We  ain't  going  to  get  through. 
The  office  ought  to  do  a  little  work  once  in  a 
while  just  to  see  what  it's  like.  They  think  a 
man  can  do  anything.  I'd  like  to  know  why  I 
ain't  entitled  to  a  night's  sleep  as  well  as  Mac- 
Bride.  But  he  don't  think  so.  After  he'd 
worked  me  twenty-four  hours  a  day  up  to  Du- 
luth,  and  I  lost  thirty-two  pounds  up  there,  he 
sends  me  down  to  a  mess  like  this.  With  a  lot 
of  drawings  that  look  as  though  they  were 
made  by  a  college  boy.  Where  does  he  expect 
'em  to  pile  their  car  doors,  I'd  like  to  know." 

That  was  the  vein  of  it,  though  the  mono- 
logue ran  on  much  longer.  But  at  last  he 
swung  impatiently  around  and  addressed 
Hilda.  "  I'm  ready  to  throw  up  my  hands.  I 
think  I'll  go  back  to  Minneapolis  and  tell  Mac- 


266  Calumet  "K*" 

Bride  IVe  had  enough.  He  can  come  down 
here  and  finish  the  house  himself." 

"  Do  you  think  he  would  get  it  done  in 
time?"  Hilda's  eyes  were  laughing  at  him, 
but  she  kept  them  on  her  work. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  said  wearily.  "  He'd  get  the 
grain  into  her  somehow.  You  couldn't  stump 
MacBride  with  anything.  That's  why  he 
makes  it  so  warm  for  us." 

"  Do  you  think,"  she  asked  very  demurely, 
indeed,  "  that  if  Mr.  MacBride  had  been  here 
he  could  have  built  it  any  faster  than  —  than 
we  have,  so  far  ?  " 

"  I  don't  believe  it,"  said  Bannon,  unwarily. 
Her  smile  told  him  that  he  had  been  trapped. 
"  I  see,"  he  added.  "  You  mean  that  there  ain't 
any  reason  why  we  can't  do  it." 

He  arose  and  tramped  uneasily  about  the 
little  shanty.  "  Oh,  of  course,  we'll  get  it  done 
—  just  because  we  have  to..  There  ain't  any- 
thing else  we  can  do.  But  just  the  same  I'm 
sick  of  the  business.    I  want  to  quit." 

She  said  nothing,  and  after  a  moment  he 
wheeled  and,  facing  her,  demanded  abruptly: 
"  What's  the  matter  with  me,  anyway  ?  "  She 
looked  at  him  frankly,  a  smile,  almost  mis- 


Calumet  *'K**  267 

chievous,  in  her  face.  The  hard,  harassed  look 
between  his  eyes  and  about  his  drawn  mouth 
melted  away,  and  he  repeated  the  question: 
''What's  the  matter  with  me?  You're  the 
doctor.    I'll  take  whatever  medicine  you  say." 

"  You  didn't  take  Mr.  Peterson's  suggestion 
very  well  —  about  taking  a  holiday,  I  mean. 
I  don't  know  whether  I  dare  prescribe  for  you 
or  not.  I  don't  think  you  need  a  day  off.  I 
think  that,  next  to  a  good,  long  vacation,  the 
best  thing  for  you  is  excitement."  He  laughed. 
"  No,  I  mean  it.  You're  tired  out,  of  course, 
but  if  you  have  enough  to  occupy  your  mind, 
you  don't  know  it.  The  trouble  to-day  is  that 
everything  is  going  too  smoothly.  You  weren't 
a  bit  afraid  yesterday  that  the  elevator  wouldn't 
be  done  on  time.  That  was  because  you 
thought  there  was  going  to  be  a  strike.  And 
if  just  now  the  elevator  should  catch  on  fire  or 
anything,  you'd  feel  all  right  about  it  again." 

He  still  half  suspected  that  she  was  making 
game  of  him,  and  he  looked  at  her  steadily 
while  he  turned  her  words  over  in  his  mind. 
"  Well,"  he  said,  with  a  short  laugh,  "  if  the 
only  medicine  I  need  is  excitement,  I'll  be  the 
healthiest  man  you  ever  saw  in  a  little  while.    I 


368  Calumet  "iT" 

guess  I'll  find  Pete.  I  must  have  made  him 
feel  pretty  sore." 

"  Pete,"  he  said,  coming  upon  him  in  the 
marine  tower  a  little  later,  "  I've  got  over  my 
stomach-ache.    Is  it  all  right?  " 

"  Sure,"  said  Pete ;  "  I  didn't  know  you  was 
feeling  bad.  I  was  thinking  about  that  belt 
gallery,  Charlie.  Ain't  it  time  we  was  putting 
it  up  ?    I'm  getting  sort  of  nervous  about  it." 

"  There  ain't  three  days'  work  in  it,  the  way 
we're  going,"  said  Bannon,  thoughtfully,  his 
eyes  on  the  C.  &  S.  C.  right-of-way  that  lay 
between  him  and  the  main  house,  "  but  I 
guess  you're  right.  We'll  get  at  it  now. 
There's  no  telling  what  sort  of  a  surprise  party 
those  railroad  fellows  may  have  for  us.  The 
plans  call  for  three  trestles  between  the  tracks. 
We'll  get  those  up  to-day." 

To  Pete,  building  the  gallery  was  a  more 
serious  business.  He  had  not  Bannon's  years 
of  experience  at  bridge  repairing;  it  had  hap- 
pened that  he  had  never  been  called  upon  to 
put  up  a  belt  gallery  before,  and  this  idea  of 
building  a  wooden  box  one  hundred  and  fifty 
feet  long  and  holding  it  up,  thirty  feet  in  air, 
on  three  trestles,  was  formidable.     Bannon's 


Cacumet  "K"  269 

nonchalant  air  of  setting  about  it  seemed  al- 
most an  affectation. 

Each  trestle  was  to  consist  of  a  rank  of  four 
posts,  planted  in  a  line  at  right  angles  to  the 
direction  of  the  gallery;  they  were  to  be  held 
together  at  the  top  by  a  corbel.  No  one  gave 
rush  orders  any  more  on  Calumet  K,  for  the 
reason  that  no  one  ever  thought  of  doing  any- 
thing else.  If  Bannon  sent  for  a  man,  he  came 
on  the  run.  So  in  an  incredibly  short  time  the 
fences  were  down  a;nd  a  swarm  of  men  with 
spades,  post  augers,  picks,  and  shovels  had  in- 
vaded the  C.  &  S.  C.  right-of-way.  Up  and 
down  the  track  a  hundred  yards  each  way  from 
the  line  of  the  gallery  Bannon  had  stationed 
men  to  give  warning  of  the  approach  of  trains. 
"  Now,"  said  Bannon,  "  we'll  get  this  part  of 
the  job  done  before  any  one  has  tihie  to  kick. 
And  they  won't  be  very  likely  to  try  to  pull  'em 
up  by  the  roots  once  we  get  'em  planted." 

But  the  section  boss  had  received  instructions 
that  caused  him  to  be  wide-awake,  day  or  night, 
to  what  was  going  on  in  the  neighborhood  of 
Calumet  K.  Half  an  hour  after  the  work  was 
begun,  the  picket  line  up  the  track  signalled  that 
something  was  coming.    There  was  no  sound 


2/0  Calumet  ''K** 

of  bell  or  whistle,  but  presently  Bannon  saw  a 
hand  car  spinning  down  the  track  as  fast  as 
six  big,  sweating  men  could  pump  the  levers. 
The  section  boss  had  little  to  say;  simply  that 
they  were  to  get  out  of  there  and  put  up  that 
fence  again,  and  the  quicker  the  better.  Ban- 
non tried  to  tell  him  that  the  railroad  had  con- 
sented to  their  putting  in  the  gallery,  that  they 
were  well  within  their  rights,  that  he,  the  sec- 
tion boss,  had  better  be  careful  not  to  exceed 
his  instructions.  But  the  section  boss  had 
spoken  his  whole  mind  already.  He  was  not 
of  the  sort  that  talk  just  for  the  pleasure  of 
hearing  their  own  voices,  and  he  had  categori- 
cal instructions  that  made  parley  unnecessary. 
He  would  not  even  tell  from  whom  he  had  the 
orders.  So  the  posts  were  lugged  out  of  the 
way  and  the  fence  was  put  up  and  the  men 
scattered  out  to  their  former  work  again,  grin- 
ning a  little  over  Bannon' s  discomfiture. 

Bannon' s  next  move  was  to  write  to  Minne- 
apolis for  information  and  instructions,  but 
MacBride,  who  seemed  to  have  all  the  infor- 
mation there  was,  happened  to  be  in  Duluth, 
and  Brown's  instructions  were  consequently 
foggy.    So,  after  waiting  a  few  days  for  some- 


Calumet  ''K"  271 

thing  more  definite,  Bannon  disappeared  one 
afternoon  and  was  gone  more  than  an  hour. 
When  he  strode  into  the  office  again,  keen  and 
springy  as  though  his  work  had  just  begun, 
Hilda  looked  up  and  smiled  a  little.  Pete  was 
tilted  back  in  the  chair  staring  glumly  out  of 
the  window.  He  did  not  turn  until  Bannon 
slapped  him  jovially  on  the  shoulders  and  told 
him  to  cheer  up. 

"  Those  railroad  chaps  are  laying  for  us, 
sure  enough,"  he  said.  "  I've  been  talking  to 
MacBride  himself  —  over  at  the  telephone  ex- 
change ;  he  ain't  in  town  —  and  he  said  that 
Porter  —  he's  the  vice-president  of  the  C.  &  S. 
C.  —  Porter  told  him,  when  he  was  in  Chicago, 
that  they  wouldn't  object  at  all  to  our  building 
the  gallery  over  their  tracks.  But  that's  all 
we've  got  to  go  by.  Not  a  word  on  paper.  Oh, 
they  mean  to  give  us  a  picnic,  and  no  mis- 
take!" 

With  that,  Bannon  called  up  the  general  of- 
fices of  the  C.  &  S.  C.  and  asked  for  Mr.  Porter. 
There  was  some  little  delay  in  getting  the  con- 
nection, and  then  three  or  four  minutes  of 
fencing  while  a  young  man  at  the  other  end  of 
the  line  tried  to  satisfy  himself  that  Bannon 


2/2  Calumet  **K** 

had  the  right  to  ask  for  Mr.  Porter,  let  alone 
to  talk  with  him,  and  Bannon,  steadily  ignoring 
his  questions,  continued  blandly  requesting  him 
to  call  Mr.  Porter  to  the  telephone.  Hilda  was 
listening  with  interest,  for  Bannon's  manner 
was  different  from  anything  she  had  ever  seen 
in  him  before.  It  lacked  nothing  of  his  cus- 
tomary assurance,  but  its  breeziness  gave  place 
to  the  most  studied  restraint;  he  might  have 
been  a  railroad  president  himsejf.  He  hung 
up  the  receiver,  however,  without  accomplish- 
ing anything,  for  the  young  man  finally  told 
him  that  Mr.  Porter  had  gone  out  for  the  af- 
ternoon. 

So  next  morning  Bannon  tried  again.  He 
learned  that  Porter  was  in,  and  all  seemed  to 
be  going  well  until  he  mentioned  MacBride  & 
Company,  after  which  Mr.  Porter  became  very 
elusive.  Three  or  four  attempts  to  pin  him 
down,  or  at  least  to  learn  his  whereabouts, 
proved  unsuccessful,  and  at  last  Bannon,  with 
wrath  in  his  heart,  started  down  town. 

It  was  nearly  night  before  he  came  back, 
and  as  before,  he  found  Pete  sitting  gloomily 
in  the  office  waiting  his  return.  "  Well,"  ex- 
claimed the  night  boss,  looking  at  him  eagerly ; 


Calumet  **K*'  273 

"  I  thought  you  was  never  coming  back. 
We've  most  had  a  fit  here,  wondering  how 
you'd  come  out.  I  don't  have  to  ask  you, 
though.  I  can  see  by  your  looks  that  we're  all 
right." 

Bannon  laughed,  and  glanced  over  at  Hilda, 
who  was  watching  him  closely.  "  Is  that  your 
guess,  too,  Miss  Vogel  ?  " 

"I  don't  think  so,"  she  said.  "I  think 
you've  had  a  pretty  hard  time." 

"  They're  both  good  guesses,"  he  said,  pull- 
ing a  paper  out  of  his  pocket,  and  handing  it  to 
Hilda.  "  Read  that."  It  was  a  formal  per- 
mit for  building  the  gallery,  signed  by  Porter 
himself,  and  bearing  the  O.  K.  of  the  general 
manager. 

"  Nice,  isn't  it  ? "  Bannon  commented. 
'*  Now  read  the  postscript.  Miss  Vogel."  It 
was  in  Porter's  handwriting,  and  Hilda  read  it 
slowly.  "  MacBride  &  Company  are  not,  how- 
ever, allowed  to  erect  trestles  or  temporary 
scaffolding  in  the  C.  &  S.  C.  right-of-way,  nor 
to  remove  any  property  of  the  Company,  such 
as  fences,  nor  to  do  anything  which  may,  in 
the  opinion  of  the  local  authorities,  hinder  the 
movement  of  trains." 


274  Calumet  "^" 

Pete's  face  went  blank.  "  A  lot  of  good  this 
darned  permit  does  us  then.  That  just  means 
we  can't  build  it." 

Bannon  nodded.  "That's  what  it's  sup- 
posed to  mean,"  he  said.  "  That's  just  the 
point." 

"  You  see,  it's  like  this,"  he  went  on.  "  That 
man  Porter  would  make  the  finest  material  for 
ring-oiling,  dust  proof,  non-inflammable  bear- 
ings that  I  ever  saw.  He's  just  about  the  hard- 
est, smoothest,  shiniest,  coolest  little  piece  of 
metal  that  ever  came  my  way.  Well,  he  wants 
to  delay  us  on  this  job.  I  took  that  in  the  mo- 
ment I  saw  him.  Well,  I  told  him  how  we 
went  ahead,  just  banking  on  his  verbal  con- 
sent, and  how  his  railroad  had  jumped  on  us; 
and  I  said  I  was  sure  it  was  just  a  misunder- 
standing, but  I  wanted  it  cleared  up  because  we 
was  in  a  hurry.  He  grinned  a  little  over  that, 
and  I  went  on  talking.  Said  we'd  bother  'em 
as  little  as  possible ;  of  course  we  had  to  put  up 
the  trestles  in  their  property,  because  we 
couldn't  hold  the  thing  up  with  a  balloon. 

"  He  asked  me,  innocent  as  you  please,  if  a 
steel  bridge  couldn't  be  made  in  a  single  span, 
and  I  said,  yes,  but  it  would  take  too  long.    We 


Calumet  "isT" 


275 


only  had  a  few  days.  '  Well/  he  says,  '  Mr. 
Bannon,  I'll  give  you  a  permit.'  And  that's 
what  he  gave  me.  I  bet  he's  grinning  yet.  I 
wonder  if  he'll  grin  so  much  about  three  days 
from  now." 

"  Do  you  mean  that  you  can  build  it  any- 
way?" Hilda  demanded  breathlessly. 

He  nodded,  and,  turning  to  Pete,  plunged 
into  a  swift,  technical  explanation  of  how  the 
trick  was  to  be  done.  "  Won't  you  please  tell 
me,  too  ?  "  Hilda  asked  appealingly. 

"  Sure,"  he  said.  He  sat  down  beside  her 
at  the  desk  and  began  drawing  on  a  piece  of 
paper.  Pete  came  and  looked  over  his  shoul- 
der.    Bannon  began  his  explanation. 


.^v 


"here's  the  spouting  house' 


"  Here's  the  spouting  house,  and  here's  the 
elevator.  Now,  suppose  they  were  only  fifteen 
feet  apart.  Then  if  we  had  two  ten- foot  sticks 
and  put  'em  up  at  an  angle  and  fastened  the 


276 


Calumet  "K** 


floor  to  a  bolt  that  came  down  between  *em, 
the  whole  weight  of  the  thing  would  be  passed 
along  to  the  foundation  that  the  ends  of  the 
timbers  rest  on.  But  you  see,  it's  got  to  be  one 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  long,  and  to  build  it 
that  way  would  take  two  one  hundred- foot  tim- 
bers, and  we  haven't  got  'em  that  long. 

"  But  we've  got  plenty  of  sticks  that  are 
twenty  feet  long,  and  plenty  of  bolts,  and  this 


HE  WAS  DRAWING  LINES  ACROSS  THE  TIMBER 

is  the  way  we  arrange  'em.  We  put  up  our 
first  stick  {x)  at  an  angle  just  as  before.  Then 
we  let  a  bolt  {0)  down  through  the  upper  end 
of  it  and  through  the  floor  of  the  gallery.  Now 
the  next  timber  (y)  we  put  up  at  just  the  same 
angle  as  the  first,  with  the  foot  of  it  bearing 
down  on  the  lower  end  of  the  bolt. 

"  That  second  stick  pushes  two  ways.  A 
straight  down  push  and  a  sideways  push.  The 
bolt  resists  the  down  push  and  transmits  it  to 


Calumet  '*K" 


277 


the  first  stick,  and  that  pushes  against  the  sill 
that  I  marked  a.  Now,  the  sideways  push  is 
against  the  butt  of  the  first  timber  of  the  floor, 
and  that's  passed  on,  same  way,  to  the  sill. 

"Well,  that's  the  whole  trick.  You  begin 
at  both  ends  at  once  and  just  keep  right  on 
going.     When  the  thing's  done  it  looks  this 


Sp.H 


"WELL,  that's  the  WHOLE  TRICK" 

way.  You  see  where  the  two  sections  meet  in 
the  middle,  it's  just  the  same  as  the  little  fifteen- 
foot  gallery  that  we  made  a  picture  of  up 
here." 

"I  understand  that  all  right,"  said  Pete, 
"  but  I  don't  see  yet  how  you're  going  to  do  it 
without  some  kind  of  scaffolding." 

"  Easy.  I  ain't  going  to  use  a  balloon,  but 
I've  got  something  that's  better.  It'll  be  out 
here  this  afternoon.  Come  and  help  me  get 
things  ready." 

There  was  not  much  to  do,  for  the  timber 
was  already  cut  to  the  right  sizes,  but  Bannon 
was  not  content  till  everything  was  piled  so 


278  Calumet  ''K'' 

that  when  work  did  begin  on  the  gallery  it 
could  go  without  a  hitch.  He  was  already- 
several  days  behind,  and  when  one  is  figuring 
it  as  fine  as  Bannon  was  doing  in  those  last 
days,  even  one  day  is  a  serious  matter.  He 
could  do  nothing  more  at  the  belt  gallery  until 
his  substitute  for  a  scaffold  should  arrive;  it 
did  not  come  that  afternoon  or  evening,  and 
next  morning  when  he  came  on  the  job  it  still 
had  not  been  heard  from.  There  was  enough 
to  occupy  every  moment  of  his  time  and  every 
shred  of  his  thought  without  bothering  about 
the  gallery,  and  he  did  not  worry  about  it  as  he 
would  have  worried  if  he  had  had  nothing  to 
do  but  wait  for  it. 

But  when,  well  along  in  the  afternoon,  a 
water  boy  found  him  up  on  the  weighing  floor 
and  told  him  there  was  something  for  him  at 
the  office,  he  made  astonishing  time  getting 
down.  "  Here's  your  package,"  said  Max,  as 
Bannon  burst  into  the  little  shanty.  It  was  a 
little,  round,  pasteboard  box.  If  Bannon  had 
had  the  office  to  himself,  he  would,  in  his  dis- 
appointment, have  cursed  the  thing  till  it 
took  fire.  As  it  was,  he  stood  speechless  a  mo- 
ment and  then  turned  to  go  out  again. 


Calumet  "A'"  279 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  open  it,  now  you're 
here  ?  *'  asked  Max. 

Bannon,  after  hesitating,  acted  on  the  sug- 
gestion, and  when  he  saw  what  it  was,  he 
laughed.  No,  Brown  had  not  forgotten  the 
hat!  Max  gazed  at  it  in  unfeigned  awe;  it 
was  shiny  as  a  mirror,  black  as  a  hearse,  tall, 
in  his  eyes  —  for  this  was  his  first  near  view  of 
one  —  as  the  seat  of  a  dining-room  chair. 
"Put  it  on,"  he  said  to  Bannon.  "Let's  see 
how  it  looks  on  you." 

"  Not  much.  Wouldn't  I  look  silly  in  a 
thing  like  that,  though?  I'd  rather  wear  an 
ordinary  length  of  stovepipe.  That'd  be 
durable,  anyway.  I  wonder  what  Brown  sent 
it  for.  I  thought  he  knew  a  joke  when  he  saw 
one." 

Just  then  one  of  the  under-foremen  came  in. 
"  Oh,  Mr.  Bannon,"  he  said,  "  I've  been  look- 
ing for  you.  There's  a  tug  in  the  river  with  a 
big,  steel  cable  aboard  that  they  said  was  for 
us.  I  told  'em  I  thought  it  was  a  mis- 
take  " 

It  was  all  one  movement,  Bannon's  jamming 
that  hat  —  the  silk  hat  —  down  on  his  head, 
and  diving  through  the  door.    He  shouted  or- 


28o 


Calumet  ''K 


ders  as  he  ran,  and  a  number  of  men,  Pete 
among  them,  got  to  the  wharf  as  soon  as  he 
did. 

"  Now,  boys,  this  is  all  the  false  work  we 
can  have.  We're  going  to  hang  it  up  across  the 
tracks  and  hang  our  gallery  up  on  it  till  it's 
strong  enough  to  hold  itself.  We've  got  just 
forty-eight  hours  to  do  the  whole  trick.  Catch 
hold  now  —  lively." 

E1^  dtv|C 


rr  WAS  A  SIMPLE  SCHEME 


It  was  a  simple  scheme  of  Bannon's.  The 
floor  of  the  gallery  was  to  be  built  in  two  sec- 
tions, one  in  the  main  house,  one  in  the  spout- 
ing house.  As  fast  as  the  timbers  were  bolted 
together  the  halves  of  the  floor  were  shoved 
out  over  the  tracks,  each  free  end  being  sup- 
ported by  a  rope  which  ran  up  over  a  pulley. 
The  pulley  was  held  by  an  iron  ring  fast  to  the 
cable,  but  perfectly  free  to  slide  along  it,  and 
thus  accompany  the  end  of  the  floor  as  it  was 
moved  outward.    Bannon  explained  it  to  Pete 


Calumet  "K**  281 

in  a  few  quick  words  while  the  men  were  hus- 
tling the  big  cable  off  the  tug. 

"  Of  course/'  he  was  concluding,  "  the 
thing'll  wabble  a  good  deal,  specially  if  it's  as 
windy  as  this,  and  it  won't  be  easy  to  work  on, 
but  it  won't  fall  if  we  make  everything  fast." 

Pete  had  listened  pretty  closely  at  first,  but 
now  Bannon  noticed  that  his  attention  seemed 
to  be  wandering  to  a  point  a  few  inches  above 
Bannon's  head.  He  was  about  to  ask  what 
was  the  matter  when  he  found  out.  It  was 
windier  on  that  particular  wharf  than  any- 
where else  in  the  Calumet  flats,  and  the  hat  he 
had  on  was  not  built  for  that  sort  of  weather. 
It  was  perfectly  rigid,  and  not  at  all  accommo- 
dated to  the  shape  of  Bannon's  head.  So,  very 
naturally,  it  blew  off,  rolled  around  among 
their  feet  for  a  moment,  and  then  dropped  into 
the  river  between  the  wharf  and  the  tug. 

Bannon  was  up  on  the  spouting  house,  help- 
ing make  fast  the  cable  end  when  a  workman 
brought  the  hat  back  to  him.  Somebody  on  the 
tug  had  fished  it  out  with  a  trolling  line.  But 
the  hat  was  well  past  resuscitation.  It  had 
been  thoroughly  drowned,  and  it  seemed  to 
know  it. 


282  Calumet  ''K'* 

**  Take  that  to  the  office,"  said  Bannon. 
"  Have  Vogel  wrap  it  up  just  as  it  is  and  ship 
it  to  Mr.  Brown.  I'll  dictate  a  letter  to  go 
with  it  by  and  by." 

For  all  Bannon' s  foresight,  there  threatened 
to  be  a  hitch  in  the  work  on  the  gallery.  The 
day  shift  was  on  again,  and  twenty- four  of 
Bannon's  forty-eight  hours  were  spent,  when 
he  happened  to  say  to  a  man :  — 

"  Never  mind  that  now,  but  be  sure  you  fix 
it  to-morrow." 

"To-morrow?"  the  man  repeated.  "We 
ain't  going  to  work  to-morrow,  are  we  ?  " 

Bannon  noticed  that  every  man  within  hear- 
ing  stopped  work,  waiting  for  the  answer. 
"  Sure,"  he  said.     "Why  not?" 

There  was  some  dissatisfied  grumbling 
among  them  which  he  was  quite  at  a  loss  to 
understand  until  he  caught  the  word  "  Christ- 
mas." 

"  Christmas !  "  he  exclaimed,  in  perfectly 
honest  astonishment.  "  Is  to-morrow  Christ- 
mas ?  "  He  ran  his  hand  through  his  stubby 
hair.  "  Boys,"  he  said,  "  I'm  sorry  to  have  to 
ask  it  of  you.  But  can't  we  put  it  off  a  week  ? 
Look  here.    We  need  this  day.    Now,  if  you'll 


Calumet  ''K**  283 

say  Christmas  is  a  week  from  tomorrow,  I'll 
give  every  man  on  the  job  a  Christmas  dinner 
that  you'll  never  forget;  all  you  can  eat  and  as 
much  again,  and  you  bring  your  friends,  if  we 
work  to-morrow  and  we  have  her  full  of  wheat 
a  week  from  to-day.    Does  that  go  ?  " 

It  went,  with  a  ripping  cheer  to  boot;  a 
cheer  that  was  repeated  here  and  there  all  over 
the  place  as  Bannon's  offer  was  passed  along. 

So  for  another  twenty- four  hours  they 
strained  and  tugged  and  tusselled  up  in  the  big 
swing,  for  it  was  nothing  else,  above  the  rail- 
road tracks.  There  was  a  northeast  gale  rag- 
ing down  off  the  lake,  with  squalls  of  rain  and 
sleet  mixed  up  in  it,  and  it  took  the  crazy, 
swaying  box  in  its  teeth  and  shook  it  and 
tossed  it  up  in  the  air  in  its  eagerness  to  strip 
it  off  the  cable.  But  somewhere  there  was  an 
unconquerable  tenacity  that  held  fast,  and  in 
the  teeth  of  the  wind  the  long  box  grew  rigid, 
as  the  trusses  were  pounded  into  place  by  men 
so  spent  with  fatigue  that  one  might  say  it 
was  sheer  good  will  that  drove  the  hammers. 

At  four  o'clock  Christmas  afternoon  the  last 
bolt  was  drawn  taut.  The  gallery  was  done. 
Bannon  had  been  on  the  work  since  midnight 


284  Calumet  **K** 

—  sixteen  consecutive  hours.  He  had  eaten 
nothing  except  two  sandwiches  that  he  had 
stowed  in  his  pockets.  His  only  pause  had 
been  about  nine  o'clock  that  morning  when  he 
had  put  his  head  in  the  office  door  to  wish 
Hilda  a  Merry  Christmas. 

When  the  evening  shift  came  on  —  that  was 
just  after  four  —  one  of  the  under- foremen 
tried  to  get  him  to  talking,  but  Bannon  ^as  too 
tired  to  talk.  "  Get  your  tracks  and  rollers  in,'* 
he  said.    "  Take  down  the  cable." 

"  Don't  you  want  to  stay  and  see  if  she'll 
hold  when  the  cable  comes  down?"  called  the 
foreman  after  him  as  he  started  away. 

"  She'll  hold,"  said  Bannon. 


CHAPTER  XV 

Before  December  was  half  gone  —  and 
while  the  mild  autumn  weather  serenely  held, 
in  spite  of  weather  predictions  and  of  storm 
signs  about  the  sun  and  days  of  blue  haze  and 
motionless  trees  —  the  newspaper-reading 
public  knew  all  the  outside  facts  about  the  fight 
in  wheat,  and  they  knew  it  to  be  the  biggest 
fight  since  the  days  of  "  Old  Hutch  "  and  the 
two-dollar-a-bushel  record.  Indeed,  there  were 
men  who  predicted  that  the  two-dollar  mark 
would  be  reached  before  Christmas,  for  the 
Clique  of  speculators  who  held  the  floor  were 
buying,  buying,  buying  —  millions  upon  mill- 
ions of  dollars  were  slipping  through  their 
ready  hands,  and  still  there  was  no  hesitation, 
no  weakening.  Until  the  small  fry  had  dropped 
out  the  deal  had  been  confused ;  it  was  too  big, 
there  were  too  many  interests  involved,  to 
285 


286  Calumet  "iT" 

make  possible  a  clear  understanding,  but  now  it 
was  settling  down  into  a  grim  fight  between 
the  biggest  men  on  the  Board.  The  Clique 
were  buying  wheat  —  Page  &  Company  were 
selling  it  to  them:  if  it  should  come  out,  on 
the  thirty-first  of  December,  that  Page  &  Com- 
pany had  sold  more  than  they  could  deliver, 
the  Clique  would  be  winners;  but  if  it  should 
have  been  delivered,  to  the  last  bushel,  the 
corner  would  be  broken,  and  the  Clique  would 
drop  from  sight  as  so  many  reckless  men  had 
dropped  before.  The  readers  of  every  great 
newspaper  in  the  country  were  watching  Page 
&  Company.  The  general  opinion  was  that 
they  could  not  do  it,  that  such  an  enormous 
quantity  of  grain  could  not  be  delivered  and 
registered  in  time,  even  if  it  were  to  be  had. 

But  the  public  overlooked,  indeed  it  had  no 
means  of  knowing,  one  important  fact.  The 
members  of  the  Clique  were  new  men  in  the 
public  eye.  They  represented  apparently  un- 
limited capital,  but  they  were  young,  eager, 
overstrung;  flushed  with  the  prospect  of  suc- 
cess, they  were  talking  for  publication.  They 
believed  they  knew  of  every  bushel  in  the  coun- 
try that  was  to  be  had,  and  they  allowed  them- 


Calumet  ''K"  287 

selves  to  say  that  they  had  already  bought 
more  than  this.  If  this  were  true.  Page  was 
beaten.  But  it  was  not  true.  The  young  men 
of  the  Clique  had  forgotten  that  Page  had 
trained  agents  in  every  part  of  the  world ;  that 
he  had  alliances  with  great  railroad  and  steamer 
lines,  that  he  had  a  weather  bureau  and  a  sys- 
tem of  crop  reports  that  outdid  those  of  the 
United  States  Government,  that  he  could  com- 
mand more  money  than  two  such  Cliques,  and, 
most  important  of  all,  that  he  did  not  talk  for 
publication.  The  young  speculators  were 
matching  their  wits  against  a  great  machine. 
Page  had  the  wheat,  he  was  making  the  effort 
of  his  career  to  deliver  it,  and  he  had  no  idea 
of  losing. 

Already  millions  of  bushels  had  been  rushed 
into  Chicago.  It  was  here  that  the  fight  took 
on  its  spectacular  features,  for  the  grain  must 
be  weighed  and  inspected  before  it  could  be 
accepted  by  the  Board  of  Trade,  and  this  could 
be  done  only  in  "  regular  "  warehouses.  The 
struggle  had  been  to  get  control  of  these  ware- 
houses. It  was  here  that  the  Clique  had  done 
their  shrewdest  work,  and  they  had  supposed 
that  Page  was  finally  outwitted,  until  they  dis- 


288  Calumet  "K** 

covered  that  he  had  coolly  set  about  building 
a  million-bushel  annex  to  his  new  house,  Calu- 
met K.  And  so  it  was  that  the  newspapers 
learned  that  on  the  chance  of  completing  Calu- 
met K  before  the  thirty-first  of  December  hung 
the  whole  question  of  winning  and  losing ;  that 
if  Bannon  should  fail.  Page  would  be  short 
two  million  bushels.  And  then  came  reporters 
and  newspaper  illustrators,  who  hung  about 
the  office  and  badgered  Hilda,  or  perched  on 
timber  piles  and  sketched  until  Bannon  or  Pe- 
terson or  Max  could  get  at  them  and  drive  them 
out.  Young  men  with  snap-shot  cameras  way- 
laid Bannon  on  his  way  to  luncheon,  and  pub- 
lished, with  his  picture,  elaborate  stories  of  his 
skill  in  averting  a  strike  —  stories  that  were 
not  at  all  true. 

Far  out  in  Minnesota  and  Montana  and 
South  Dakota  farmers  were  driving  their 
wheat-laden  wagons  to  the  hundreds  of  local 
receiving  houses  that  dotted  the  railroad  lines. 
Box  cars  were  waiting  for  the  red  grain,  to 
roll  it  away  to  Minneapolis  and  Duluth  —  day 
and  night  the  long  trains  were  puffing  east- 
ward. Everywhere  the  order  was,  "  Rush !  " 
Railroad  presidents  and  managers  knew  that 


Calumet  '*K*'  289 

Page  was  in  a  hurry,  and  they  knew  what 
Page's  hurries  meant,  not  only  to  the  thousands 
of  men  who  depended  on  him  for  their  daily 
bread,  but  to  the  many  great  industries  of  the 
Northwest,  whose  credit  and  integrity  were 
inextricably  interwoven  with  his..  Division 
superintendents  knew  that  Page  was  in  a 
hurry,  and  they  snapped  out  orders  and  dis- 
charged half-competent  men  and  sent  quick 
words  along  the  hot  wires  that  were  translated 
by  despatchers  and  operators  and  yard  masters 
into  profane,  driving  commands.  Conductors 
knew  it,  brakemen  and  switchmen  knew  it; 
they  made  flying  switches  in  defiance  of  com- 
panies' orders,  they  ran  where  they  used  to 
walk,  they  slung  their  lunch  pails  on  their  arms 
and  ate  when  and  where  they  could,  gazing 
over  their  cold  tea  at  some  portrait  of  Page,  or 
of  a  member  of  the  Clique,  or  of  Bannon,  in 
the  morning's  paper. 

Elev^ator  men  at  Minneapolis  knew  that  Page 
was  in  a  hurry,  and  they  worked  day  and  night 
at  shovel  and  scale.  Steamboat  masters  up  at 
Duluth  knew  it,  and  mates  and  deck  hands  and 
stevedores  and  dockwallopers  —  more  than 
one  steamer  scraped  her  paint  in  the  haste  to 


290  Calumet  ''K'' 

get  under  the  long  spouts  that  waited  to  pour 
out  grain  by  the  hundred  thousand  bushels. 
Trains  came  down  from  Minneapolis,  boats 
came  down  from  Duluth,  warehouse  after 
warehouse  at  Chicago  was  filled;  and  over- 
strained nerves  neared  the  breaking  point  as  the 
short  December  days  flew  by.  Some  said  the 
Clique  would  win,  some  said  Page  would  win ; 
in  the  wheat  pit  men  were  fighting  like  tigers ; 
every  one  who  knew  the  facts  was  watching 
Charlie  Bannon. 

The  storm  came  on  the  eighteenth  of  the 
month.  It  was  predicted  two  days  ahead,  and 
ship  masters  were  warned  at  all  the  lake  ports. 
It  was  a  Northwest  blizzard,  driven  down  from 
the  Canadian  Rockies  at  sixty  miles  an  hour, 
leaving  two  feet  of  snow  behind  it  over  a  belt 
hundreds  of  miles  wide.  But  Page's  steamers 
were  not  stopping  for  blizzards;  they  headed 
out  of  Duluth  regardless  of  what  was  to  come. 
And  there  were  a  bad  few  days,  with  tales  of 
wreck  on  lake  and  railroad,  days  of  wind  and 
snow  and  bitter  cold,  and  of  risks  run  that 
supplied  round-house  and  tug-office  yarn  spin- 
ners with  stories  that  were  not  yet  worn  out. 
Down  on  the  job  the  snow  brought  the  work  to 


YOUNG   MEN   .   .   .   WAYLAID  BANNON 


•.~      •       t      '    •  t    K 


Calumet  ''K''  291 

a  pause,  but  Bannon,  within  a  half-hour,  was 
out  of  bed  and  on  the  ground,  and  there  was  no 
question  of  changing  shifts  until,  after  twenty- 
four  hours,  the  storm  had  passed,  and  elevator, 
annex  and  marine  tower  were  cleared  of  snow. 
Men  worked  until  they  could  not  stagger,  then 
snatched  a  few  hours'  sleep  where  they  could. 
Word  was  passed  that  those  who  wished  might 
observe  the  regular  hours,  but  not  a  dozen  men 
took  the  opportunity.  For  now  they  were  in 
the  public  eye,  and  they  felt  as  soldiers  feel, 
when,  after  long  months  of  drill  and  discipline, 
they  are  led  to  the  charge. 

Then  came  two  days  of  biting  weather  — 
when  ears  were  nipped  and  fingers  stiffened, 
and  carpenters  who  earned  three  dollars  a  day 
envied  the  laborers,  whose  work  kept  their 
blood  moving  —  and  after  this  a  thaw,  with 
sleet  and  rain.  James,  the  new  delegate,  came 
to  Bannon  and  pointed  out  that  men  who  are 
continually  drenched  to  the  skin  are  not  the 
best  workmen.  The  boss  met  the  delegate 
fairly;  he  ordered  an  oilskin  coat  for  every 
man  on  the  job,  and  in  another  day  they 
swarmed  over  the  building,  looking,  at  a  dis- 
tance, like  glistening  yellow  beetles. 


292  Calumet  ''K** 

But  if  Chicago  was  thawing,  Duluth  was 
not.  The  harbor  at  the  western  end  of  Lake 
Superior  was  ice-bound,  and  it  finally  reached 
a  point  that  the  tugs  could  not  break  open  the 
channel.  This  was  on  the  twenty-third  and 
twenty- fourth.  The  wires  were  hot,  but  Page's 
agents  succeeded  in  covering  the  facts  until 
Christmas  Day.  It  was  just  at  dusk,  after 
leaving  the  men  to  take  down  the  cable,  that 
Bannon  went  to  the  office. 

A  newsboy  had  been  on  the  grounds  with  a 
special  edition  of  a  cheap  afternoon  paper. 
Hilda  had  taken  one,  and  when  Bannon  entered 
the  office  he  found  her  reading,  leaning  for- 
ward on  the  desk,  her  chin  on  her  hands,  the 
paper  spread  out  over  the  ledger. 

"  Hello,"  he  said,  throwing  off  his  dripping 
oilskin,  and  coming  into  the  enclosure;  "  I'm 
pretty  near  ready  to  sit  down  and  think  about 
the  Christmas  tree  that  we  ain't  going  to  have." 

She  looked  up,  and  he  saw  that  she  was  a 
little  excited ;  her  eyes  always  told  him.  Dur- 
ing this  last  week  she  had  been  carrying  the 
whole  responsibility  of  the  work  on  her 
shoulders. 

"  Have  you  seen  this  ?  "  she  asked. 


Calumet  "JT"  293 

"  Haven't  read  a  paper  this  week."  He 
leaned  over  the  desk  beside  her  and  read  the 
article.  In  Duluth  harbor,  and  at  St.  Mary's 
straits,  a  channel  through  the  ice  had  been 
blasted  out  with  dynamite,  and  the  last  laden 
steamer  was  now  ploughing  down  Lake  Michi- 
gan. Already  one  steamer  was  lying  at  the 
wharf  by  the  marine  tower,  waiting  for  the 
machinery  to  start,  and  others  lay  behind  her, 
farther  down  the  river.  Long  strings  of  box 
cars  filled  the  Belt  Line  sidings,  ready  to  roll 
into  the  elevator  at  the  word. 

Bannon  seated  himself  on  the  railing,  and 
caught  his  toes  between  the  supports. 

"  I'll  tell  you  one  thing,"  he  said,  "  those 
fellows  have  got  to  get  up  pretty  early  in  the 
morning  if  they're  going  to  beat  old  Page." 

She  looked  at  him,  and  then  slowly  folded 
the  paper  and  turned  toward  the  window.  It 
was  nearly  dark  outside.  The  rain,  driving 
down  from  the  northeast,  tapped  steadily  on 
the  glass.  The  arc  lamp,  on  the  pole  near  the 
tool  house,  was  a  blurred  circle  of  light.  She 
was  thinking  that  they  would  have  to  get  up 
pretty  early  to  beat  Charlie  Bannon. 

They  were  silent  for  a  time  —  silences  were 


294  Calumet  "^'* 

not  so  hard  as  they  had  been,  a  few  weeks 
before  —  both  looking  out  at  the  storm,  and 
both  thinking  that  this  was  Christmas  night. 
On  the  afternoon  before  he  had  asked  her  to 
take  a  hoHday,  and  she  had  shaken  her  head. 
"I  couldn't  —  I'd  be  here  before  noon,"  was 
what  she  had  said ;  and  she  had  laughed  a  little 
at  her  own  confession,  and  hurried  away  with 
Max. 

She  turned  and  said,  "  Is  it  done  —  the  belt 
gallery?" 

He  nodded.     "  All  done." 

"Well "   she  smiled;  and  he  nodded 

again. 

"  The  C.  &  S.  C.  man  —  the  fellow  that  was 
around  the  other  day  and  measured  to  see  if  it 
was  high  enough  —  he's  out  there  looking  up 
with  his  mouth  open.  He  hasn't  got  much  to 
say." 

"  You  didn't  have  to  touch  the  tracks  at 
all?" 

"  Not  once.  Ran  her  out  and  bolted  her 
together,  and  there  she  was.  I'm  about  ready 
for  my  month  off.  We'll  have  the  wheat  com- 
ing in  to-morrow,  and  then  it's  just  walking 
down  hill." 


Calumet  "A'"  295 

"To-morrow?''  she  asked.  "Can  you  do 
it?" 

"  Got  to.  Five  or  six  days  aren't  any  too 
much.  If  it  was  an  old  house  and  the  ma- 
chinery was  working  well,  Fd  undertake  to  do 
it  in  two  or  three,  but  if  we  get  through  with- 
out ripping  up  the  gallery,  or  pounding  the 
leg  through  the  bottom  of  a  steamer,  it'll  be 
the  kind  of  luck  I  don't  have."  He  paused  and 
looked  at  the  window,  where  the  rain  was 
streaking  the  glass.  "  I've  been  thinking  about 
my  vacation.  I've  about  decided  to  go  to  the 
St.  Lawrence.  Maybe  there  are  places  I'd  like 
better,  but  when  a  fellow  hasn't  had  a  month 
off  in  five  years,  he  doesn't  feel  like  experi- 
ments." 

It  was  the  personal  tone  again,  coming  into 
their  talk  in  spite  of  the  excitement  of  the  day 
and  the  many  things  that  might  have  been  said. 
Hilda  looked  down  at  the  ledger,  and  fingered 
the  pages.     Bannon  smiled. 

"  If  I  were  you,"  he  said,  "  Fd  shut  that  up 
and  fire  it  under  the  table.  This  light  isn't 
good  enough  to  work  by,  anyway." 

She  slowly  closed  the  book,  saying :  — 

"  I  never  worked  before  on  Christmas." 


296  Calumet  ''K*' 

"  It's  a  mistake.  I  don't  believe  in  it,  but 
somehow  it's  when  my  hardest  work  always 
comes.  One  Christmas,  when  I  was  on  the 
Grand  Trunk,  there  was  a  big  wreck  at  a  junc- 
tion about  sixty  miles  down  the  road." 

She  saw  the  memory  coming  into  his  eyes, 
and  she  leaned  back  against  the  desk,  play- 
ing with  her  pen,  and  now  and  then  looking 
up. 

"  I  was  chief  wrecker,  and  I  had  an  old 
Scotch  engineer  that  you  couldn't  move  with  a 
jack.  We'd  rubbed  up  together  three  or  four 
times  before  I'd  had  him  a  month,  and  I  was 
getting  tired  of  it.  We'd  got  about  halfway 
to  the  junction  that  night,  and  I  felt  the  brakes 
go  on  hard,  and  before  I  could  get  through 
the  train  and  over  the  tender,  we'd  stopped 
dead.  The  Scotchman  was  down  by  the  driv- 
ers fussing  around  with  a  lantern.  I  hollered 
out:  — 

"  *  What's  the  matter  there?  ' 

"  '  She's  a  bit  'ot,'  said  he. 

"  You'd  have  thought  he  was  running  a 
huckleberry  train  from  the  time  he  took.  I 
ordered  him  into  the  cab,  and  he  just  waved 
his  hand  and  said :  — 


Calumet  "K"  297 

"  '  Wait  a  bit,  wait  a  bit.  She'll  be  cool  di- 
rectly/ " 

Bannon  chuckled  at  the  recollection. 

"  What  did  you  do?  "  Hilda  asked. 

"  Jumped  for  the  lever,  and  hollered  for  him 
to  get  aboard." 

"Did  he  come?" 

"  No,  he  couldn't  think  that  fast.  He  just 
stood  still,  looking  at  me,  while  I  threw  her 
open,  and  you  could  see  his  lantern  for  a  mile 
back  —  he  never  moved.  He  had  a  good  six- 
mile  walk  back  to  the  last  station." 

There  was  a  long  silence.  Bannon  got  up 
and  walked  slowly  up  and  down  the  enclosure 
with  his  hands  deep  in  his  pockets. 

"  I  wish  this  would  let  up,"  he  said,  after  a 
time,  pausing  in  his  walk,  and  looking  again  at 
the  window.  "  It's  a  wonder  we're  getting 
things  done  at  all." 

Hilda's  eye,  roaming  over  the  folded  news- 
paper, fell  on  the  weather  forecast. 

"  Fair  to-morrow,"  she  said,  "  and  colder." 

"  That  doesn't  stand  for  much.  They  said 
the  same  thing  yesterday.  It's  a  worse  gamble 
than  wheat." 

Bannon  took  to  walking  again;  and  Hilda 


298  Calumet  "K'* 

stepped  down  and  stood  by  the  window,  spell- 
ing out  the  word  ''  Calumet "  with  her  finger 
on  the  misty  glass.  At  each  turn,  Bannon 
paused  and  looked  at  her.  Finally  he  stood 
still,  not  realizing  that  he  was  staring  until  she 
looked  around,  flushed,  and  dropped  her  eyes. 
Then  he  felt  awkward,  and  he  began  turning 
over  the  blue  prints  on  the  table. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  have  to  do,"  he  said. 
"  I  rather  think  now  I'll  start  on  the  third  for 
Montreal.  I'm  telling  you  a  secret,  you  know. 
I'm  not  going  to  let  Brown  or  MacBride  know 
where  I'll  be.  And  if  I  can  pick  up  some  good 
pictures  of  the  river,  I'll  send  them  to  you.  I'll 
get  one  of  the  Montmorency  Falls,  if  I  can. 
They're  great  in  winter." 

"  Why  —  why,  thank  you,"  she  said.  "  I'd 
like  to  have  them." 

"  I  ain't  much  at  writing  letters,"  he  went 
on,  "  but  I'll  send  you  the  pictures,  and  you 
write  and  tell  me  how  things  are  going." 

She  laughed  softly,  and  followed  the  zigzag 
course  of  the  raindrop  with  her  finger. 

"I  wouldn't  have  very  much  to  say," she  said, 
speaking  with  a  little  hesitation,  and  without 
looking  around.    "  Max  and  I  never  do  much." 


Calumet  "jfiT"  299 

"  Oh,  you  can  tell  how  your  work  goes,  and 
what  you  do  nights." 

"  We  don't  do  much  of  anything.  Max 
studies  some  at  night  —  a  man  he  used  to  work 
for  gave  him  a  book  of  civil  engineering." 

"What  do  you  do?" 

"  I  read  some,  and  then  I  like  to  learn  things 
about  —  oh,  about  business,  and  how  things 
are  done." 

Bannon  could  not  take  his  eyes  from  her  — 
he  was  looking  at  her  hair,  and  at  the  curved 
outline  of  one  cheek,  all  that  he  could  see  of 
her  face.  They  both  stood  still,  listening  to 
the  patter  of  the  rain,  and  to  the  steady  drip 
from  the  other  end  of  the  office,  where  there 
was  a  leak  in  the  roof.  Once  she  cleared  her 
throat,  as  if  to  speak,  but  no  words  came. 

There  was  a  stamping  outside,  and  she 
slipped  back  to  the  ledger,  as  the  door  flew 
open.    Bannon  turned  to  the  blue  prints. 

Max  entered,  pausing  to  knock  his  cap 
against  the  door,  and  wring  it  out. 

"  You  ought  to  have  stayed  out,  Mr.  Ban- 
non," he  said.  "  It's  the  greatest  thing  you 
ever  saw  —  doesn't  sag  an  inch.  And  say  —  I 
wish  you  could  hear  the  boys  talk  —  they'd  lie 


300  Calumet  *'K** 

down  and  let  you  walk  on  *em,  if  you  wanted 
to." 

Max's  eyes  were  bright,  and  his  face  red 
with  exercise  and  excitement.  He  came  to  the 
gate  and  stood  wiping  his  feet  and  looking 
from  one  to  the  other  for  several  moments 
before  he  felt  the  awkwardness  that  had  come 
over  him.  His  long  rubber  coat  was  thrown 
back,  and  little  streams  of  water  ran  down  his 
back  and  formed  a  pool  on  the  floor  behind 
him. 

"  You'd  better  come  out/'  he  said.  "  It's  the 
prettiest  thing  I  ever  saw  —  a  clean  straight 
span  from  the  main  house  to  the  tower." 

Bannon  stood  watching  him  quizzically; 
then  he  turned  to  Hilda.  She,  too,  had  been 
looking  at  Max,  but  she  turned  at  the  same 
moment,  and  their  eyes  met. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go?  "  he  said. 

She  nodded  eagerly.  "  I'd  like  to  ever  so 
much." 

Then  Bannon  thought  of  the  rain,  but  she 
saw  his  thought  as  he  glanced  toward  the  win- 
dow, and  spoke  quickly. 

"  I  don't  mind  —  really.  Max  will  let  me 
take  his  coat." 


Calumet  *'K**  301 

"  Sure,"  said  Max,  and  he  grinned.  She 
slipped  into  it,  and  it  enveloped  her,  hanging  in 
folds  and  falling  on  the  floor. 

"  I'll  have  to  hold  it  up,"  she  said.  "  Do 
we  have  much  climbing  ?  " 

*'  No,"  said  Max,  "  it  ain't  high.  And  the 
stairs  are  done,  you  know." 

Hilda  lifted  the  coat  a  little  way  with  both 
hands,  and  put  out  one  small  toe.  Bannon 
looked  at  it,  and  shook  his  head.  "  You'll  get 
your  feet  wet,"  he  said. 

She  looked  up  and  met  Bannon's  eyes  again, 
with  an  expression  that  puzzled  Max. 

"  I  don't  care.  It's  almost  time  to  go  home, 
anyway." 

So  they  went  out,  and  closed  the  door;  and 
Max,  who  had  been  told  to  "  stay  behind  and 
keep  house,"  looked  after  them,  and  then  at  the 
door,  and  an  odd  expression  of  slow  under- 
standing came  into  his  face.  It  was  not  in 
what  they  had  said,  but  there  was  plainly  a 
new  feeling  between  them.  For  the  first  time 
in  his  life.  Max  felt  that  another  knew  Hilda 
better  than  he  did.  The  way  Bannon  had 
looked  at  her,  and  she  at  him ;  the  mutual  un- 
derstanding that  left  everything  unsaid;  the 


302  Calumet  '*K" 

something  —  Max  did  not  know  what  it  was, 
but  he  saw  it  and  felt  it,  and  it  disturbed  him. 
He  sat  on  the  table,  and  swung  his  feet, 
while  one  expression  chased  another  over  his 
face.  When  he  finally  got  himself  together, 
he  went  to  the  door,  and  opening  it,  looked 
out  at  the  black,  dim  shape  of  the  elevator  that 
stood  big  and  square,  only  a  little  way  before 
him,  shutting  out  whatever  he  might  else  have 
seen  of  rushing  sky  or  dim-lighted  river,  or  of 
the  railroads  and  the  steamboats  and  the  fac- 
tories and  rolling  mills  beyond.  It  was  as  if 
this  elevator  were  his  fate,  looming  before  him 
and  shutting  out  the  forward  view.  In  what- 
ever thoughts  he  had  had  of  the  future,  in 
whatever  plans,  and  they  were  few,  which  he 
had  revolved  in  his  head,  there  had  always 
been  a  place  for  Hilda.  He  did  not  see  just 
what  he  was  to  do,  just  what  he  was  to  be- 
come, without  her.  He  stood  there  for  a  long 
time,  leaning  against  the  door-jamb  with  his 
hands  in  his  pockets,  and  the  sharper  gusts  of 
rain  whirled  around  the  end  of  the  little  build- 
ing and  beat  on  him.  And  then  —  well,  it  was 
Charlie  Bannon;  and  Max  knew  that  he  was 
glad  it  was  no  one  else. 


Calumet  "iT"  303 

The  narrow  windows  in  the  belt  gallery  had 
no  glass,  and  the  rain  came  driving  through 
them  into  the  shadows,  each  drop  catching  the 
white  shine  of  the  electric  lights  outside.  The 
floor  was  trampled  with  mud  and  littered  with 
scraps  of  lumber,  tool  boxes,  empty  nail  kegs, 
and  shavings.  The  long,  gloomy  gallery  was 
empty  when  Bannon  and  Hilda  stepped  into  it, 
excepting  a  group  of  men  at  the  farther  end, 
installing  the  rollers  for  the  belt  conveyor  — 
they  could  be  seen  indistinctly  against  a  light 
in  the  river  house. 

The  wind  came  roaring  around  the  building, 
and  the  gallery  trembled  and  shook.  Hilda 
caught  her  breath  and  stopped  short. 

"  It's  all  right,"  said  Bannon.  "  She's  bound 
to  move  some." 

"  I  know  —  "  she  laughed  —  "I  wasn't  ex- 
pecting it  —  it  startled  me  a  little." 

"  Watch  where  you  step."  He  took  her  arm 
and  guided  her  slowly  between  the  heaps  of 
rubbish. 

At  one  of  the  windows  she  paused,  and  stood 
full  in  the  rain,  looking  out  at  the  C.  &  S.  C. 
tracks,  with  their  twinkling  red  and  green 
lights,  all  blurred  and  seeming  far  off  in  the 
storm. 


304  Calumet  "K** 

"  Isn't  this  pretty  wet  ?  "  he  said,  standing 
beside  her. 

"  I  don't  care."  She  shook  the  folds  of  the 
rubber  coat,  and  glanced  down  at  it.  "I  like 
it." 

They  looked  out  for  a  long  time.  Two  mill- 
wrights came  through  the  gallery,  and  glanced 
at  them,  but  they  did  not  turn.  She  stepped 
forward  and  let  the  rain  beat  on  her  face  — 
he  stood  behind,  looking  at  her.  A  light 
showed  far  down  the  track,  and  they  heard  a 
faint  whistle.  "  A  train,"  he  said ;  and  she 
nodded.  The  headlight  grew,  and  the  car 
lights  appeared  behind  it,  and  then  the  black 
outline  of  the  engine.  There  was  a  rush  and  a 
roar,  and  it  passed  under  them. 

**  Doesn't  it  make  you  want  to  jump  down?  " 
she  said  softly,  when  the  roar  had  dwindled 
away. 

He  nodded  with  a  half-smile. 

"  Say,"  he  said,  a  little  later,  "  I  don't  know 
about  your  writing  —  I  don't  believe  we'd 
better  —  "he  got  the  words  out  more  rapidly 
— "  I'll  tell  you  what  you  do  —  you  come 
along  with  me  and  we  won't  have  to  write." 

"  Come  —  where  ?  " 


Calumet  ''K**  305 

"  Up  to  the  St.  Lawrence.  We  can  start  on 
the  third  just  the  same." 

She  did  not  answer,  and  he  stopped.  Then, 
after  a  moment,  she  slowly  turned,  and  looked 
at  him. 

^^Why  — "  she  said  — "I  don't  think 
I " 

"  IVe  just  been  thinking  about  it.  I  guess  I 
can't  do  anything  else  —  I  mean  I  don't  want 
to  go  anywhere  alone.  I  guess  that's  pretty 
plain,  isn't  it  —  what  I  mean  ?  " 

She  leaned  back  against  the  wall  and  looked 
at  him ;  it  was  as  if  she  could  not  take  her  eyes 
from  his  face. 

"  Perhaps  I  oughtn't  to  expect  you  to  say 
anything  now,"  he  went  on.  "  I  just  thought 
if  you  felt  anything  like  I  did,  you'd  know 
pretty  well,  by  this  time,  whether  it  was  yes  or 
no. 

She  was  still  looking.at  him.  He  had  said  it 
all,  and  now  he  waited,  his  fists  knotted  tightly, 
and  a  peculiar  expression  on  his  face,  almost 
as  if  he  were  smiling,  but  it  came  from  a  part 
of  his  nature  that  had  never  before  got  to  the 
surface.     Finally  she  said:  — 

"  I  think  we'd  better  go  back." 
z 


306  Calumet  *'K** 

He  did  not  seem  to  understand,  and  she 
turned  away  and  started  off  alone.  In  a  mo- 
ment he  was  at  her  side.  He  guided  her  back 
as  they  had  come,  and  neither  spoke  until  they 
had  reached  the  stairway.  Then  he  said,  in  a 
low  tone  that  the  carpenters  could  not  hear :  — 

"  You  don't  mean  that  —  that  you  can't  do 
it?" 

She  shook-  her  head  and  hurried  to  the  office. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

Bannon  stood  looking  after  her  until  she 
disappeared  in  the  shadow  of  an  arc  lamp,  and 
after  that  he  continued  a  long  time  staring  into 
the  blot  of  darkness  where  the  office  was.  At 
last  the  window  became  faintly  luminous,  as 
some  one  lighted  the  wall  lamp;  then,  as  if  it 
were  a  signal  he  had  been  waiting  for,  Bannon 
turned  away. 

An  hour  before,  when  he  had  seen  the  last 
bolt  of  the  belt  gallery  drawn  taut,  he  had 
become  aware  that  he  was  quite  exhausted. 
The  fact  was  so  obvious  that  he  had  not  tried 
to  evade  it,  but  had  admitted  to  himself,  in  so 
many  words,  that  he  was  at  the  end  of  his  rope. 
But  when  he  turned  from  gazing  at  the  dimly 
lighted  window,  it  was  not  toward  his  board- 
ing-house, where  he  knew  he  ought  to  be,  but 
back  into  the  elevator,  that  his  feet  led  him. 
307 


308  Calumet  ''K" 

For  once,  his  presence  accomplished  nothing. 
He  went  about  without  thinking  where;  he 
passed  men  without  seeing  who  they  were  or 
what  they  were  doing.  When  he  walked 
through  the  belt  gallery,  he  saw  the  foreman  of 
the  big  gang  of  men  at  work  there  was  handling 
them  clumsily,  so  that  they  interfered  with 
each  other,  but  it  did  not  occur  to  him  to  give 
the  orders  that  would  set  things  right.  Then, 
as  if  his  wire-drawn  muscles  had  not  done 
work  enough,  he  climbed  laboriously  to  the 
very  top  of  the  marine  tower. 

He  was  leaning  against  a  window-casing; 
not  looking  out,  for  he  saw  nothing,  but  with 
his  face  turned  to  the  fleet  of  barges  lying  in 
the  river;  when  some  one  spoke  to  him. 

"  I  guess  you're  thinking  about  that  Christ- 
mas dinner,  ain't  you,  Mr.  Bannon?  " 

"  Whaf  s  that  ?  "  he  demanded,  wheeling 
about.  Then  rallying  his  scattered  faculties, 
he  recognized  one  of  the  carpenters.  "  Oh, 
yes,"  he  said,  laughing  tardily.  "Yes,  the 
postponed  Christmas  dinner.  You  think  I'm 
in  for  it,  do  you  ?  You  know  it's  no  go  unless 
this  house  is  full  of  wheat  clear  to  the  roof." 

"  I  know  it/'  said  the  man.     "  But  I  guess 


Calumet  ''K''  309 

we're  going  to  stick  you  for  it.  Don't  you 
think  we  are?  " 

"  I  guess  that's  right." 

"  1  come  up  here/'  said  the  carpenter,  well 
pleased  at  the  chance  for  a  talk  with  the  boss, 
"  to  have  a  look  at  this  —  marine  leg,  do  you 
call  it?  I  haven't  been  to  work  on  it,  and  I 
never  saw  one  before.  I  wanted  to  find  out 
how  it  works." 

**Just  like  any  other  leg  over  in  the  main 
house.  Head  pulley  up  here ;  another  one  down 
in  the  boot ;  endless  belt  running  over  'em  with 
steel  cups  rivetted  on  it  to  scoop  up  the  grain. 
Only  difference  is  that  instead  of  being  station- 
ary and  set  up  in  a  tank,  this  one's  hung  up. 
We  let  the  whole  business  right  down  into  the 
boat.  Pull  it  up  and  down  with  that  steam 
winch." 

The  man  shook  his  head.  "  What  if  it  got 
away  from  you?  " 

"  That's  happened,"  said  Bannon.  "  I've 
seen  a  leg  most  as  big  as  this  smash  through 
two  decks.  Thought  it  was  going  right  on 
through  the  bottom  of  the  boat.  But  that 
wasn't  a  leg  that  MacBride  had  hung  up.  This 
one  won't  fall." 


310  Calumet  "iT" 

Bannon  answered  one  or  two  more  questions 
rather  at  random,  then  suddenly  came  back  to 
earth.  '  "  What  are  you  doing  here,  anyway?  " 
he  demanded.  "  Seems  to  me  this  is  a  pretty 
easy  way  to  earn  thirty  cents  an  hour." 

"I  —  I  was  just  going  to  see  if  there  wasn't 
something  I  could  do,"  the  man  answered,  a 
good  deal  embarrassed.  Then  before  Bannon 
could  do  more  than  echo,  "  Something  to  do?  " 
added :  "  I  don't  get  my  time  check  till  mid- 
night. I  ain't  on  this  shift.  I  just  come 
around  to  see  how  things  was  going.  We're 
going  to  see  you  through,  Mr.  Bannon." 

Bannon  never  had  a  finer  tribute  than  that, 
not  even  what  young  Page  said  when  the  race 
was  over;  and  it  could  not  have  come  at  a 
moment  when  he  needed  it  more.  He  did  not 
think  much  in  set  terms  about  what  it  meant, 
but  when  the  man  had  gone  and  he  had  turned 
back  to  the  window,  he  took  a  long  breath  of 
the  night  air  and  he  saw  what  lay  beneath  his 
eyes.  He  saw  the  line  of  ships  in  the  river; 
down  nearer  the  lake  another  of  Page's  ele- 
vators was  drinking  up  the  red  wheat  out  of 
the  hold  of  a  snub-nosed  barge;  across  the 
river,  in  the  dark,  they  were  backing  another 


Calumet  ''K'*  311 

string  of  wheat-laden  cars  over  the  Belt  Line 
switches.  As  he  looked  out  and  listened,  his 
imagination  took  fire  again,  as  it  had  taken  fire 
that  day  in  the  waiting-room  at  Blake  City, 
when  he  had  learned  that  the  little,  one-track 
G.  &  M.  was  trying  to  hinder  the  torrent  of  the 
Northern  wheat. 

Well,  the  wheat  had  come  down.  It  had 
beaten  a  blizzard,  it  had  churned  and  wedged 
and  crushed  its  way  through  floating  ice  and  in 
the  trough  of  mauling  seas;  belated  passenger 
trains  had  waited  on  lonely  sidings  while  it 
thundered  by,  and  big  rotary  ploughs  had  bitten 
a  way  for  it  across  the  drifted  prairies.  Now 
it  was  here,  and  Charlie  Bannon  was  keeping  it 
waiting. 

He  stood  there,  looking,  only  a  moment; 
then  before  the  carpenter's  footsteps  were  well 
out  of  hearing,  he  followed  him  down  the  stair- 
way to  the  belt  gallery.  Before  he  had  passed 
half  its  length  you  could  have  seen  the  differ- 
ence. In  the  next  two  hours  every  man  on  the 
elevator  saw  him,  learned  a  quicker  way  to 
splice  a  rope  or  align  a  shaft,  and  heard,  before 
the  boss  went  away,  some  word  of  commenda- 
tion that  set  his  hands  to  working  the  faster, 


312  Calumet  ''K" 

and  made  the  work  seem  easy.  The  work  had 
gone  on  without  interruption  for  weeks,  and 
never  slowly,  but  there  were  times  when  it  went 
with  a  lilt  and  a  laugh;  when  laborers  heaved 
at  a  hoisting  tackle  with  a  Yo-ho,  like  pri- 
vateersmen  who  have  just  sighted  a  sail;  when, 
with  all  they  could  do,  results  came  too  slowly, 
and  the  hours  flew  too  fast.  And  so  it  was 
that  Christmas  night ;  Charlie  Bannon  was  back 
on  the  job. 

About  ten  o'clock  he  encountered  Pete,  bear- 
ing off  to  the  shanty  a  quart  bottle  of  cold  cof- 
fee and  a  dozen  big,  thick  sandwiches.  "  Come 
on,  Charlie,"  he  called.  "  Max  is  coming,  too; 
but  I  guess  we've  got  enough  to  spare  you  a 
little." 

So  the  three  of  them  sat  down  to  supper 
around  the  draughting-table,  and  between  bites 
Bannon  talked,  a  little  about  everything,  but 
principally,  and  with  much  corroborative  de- 
tail —  for  the  story  seemed  to  strain  even 
Pete's  easy  credulity  —  of  how,  up  at  Yawger, 
he  had  been  run  on  the  independent  ticket  for 
Superintendent  of  the  Sunday  School,  and  had 
been  barely  defeated  by  two  votes. 

When  the  sandwiches  were  put  away,  and 


Calumet  ''K'*  313 

all  but  three  drinks  of  the  coffee,  Bannon  held 
the  bottle  high  in  the  air.  "  Here's  to  the 
house!"  he  said.  "We'll  have  wheat  in  her 
to-morrow  night ! '' 

They  drank  the  toast  standing;  then,  as 
if  ashamed  of  such  a  sentimental  demonstra- 
tion, they  filed  sheepishly  out  of  the  office. 
They  walked  fifty  paces  in  silence.  Then  Pete 
checked  suddenly  and  turned  to  Bannon. 

"  Hold  on,  Charlie,  where  are  you  going?  " 

"  Going  to  look  over  those  'cross-the-house 
conveyor  drives  down  cellar.'' 

"  No,  you  ain't  either.  You're  going  to 
bed." 

Bannon  only  laughed  and  started  on  toward 
the  elevator. 

"  How  long  is  it  since  you  had  any  sleep  ?  " 
Pete  demanded. 

"  I  don't  know.  Guess  I  must  have  slept 
part  of  the  time  while  we  was  putting  up 
that  gallery.  I  don't  remember  much  about 
it." 

"  Don't  be  in  such  a  hurry,"  said  Pete,  and 
as  he  said  it  he  reached  out  his  left  hand  and 
caught  him  by  the  shoulder.  It  was  more  by 
way  of  gesture  than  otherwise,  but  Bannon  had 


314  Calumet  ''K" 

to  step  back  a  pace  to  keep  his  feet.  "  I  mean 
business,"  Pete  went  on,  though  laughing  a  lit- 
tle. "  When  we  begin  to  turn  over  the  ma- 
chinery you  won't  want  to  go  away,  so  this  is 
your  last  chance  to  get  any  sleep.  I  can't  make 
things  jump  like  you  can,  but  I  can  keep  'em 
going  to-night  somehow." 

"  Hadn't  you  better  wrap  me  up  in  cotton 
flannel  and  feed  me  warm  milk  with  a  spoon? 
Let  go  of  me  and  quit  your  fooling.  You  de- 
lay the  game." 

"  I  ain't  fooling.  I'm  boss  here  at  night,  and 
I  fire  you  till  morning.  That  goes  if  I  have  to 
carry  you  all  the  way  to  your  boarding  house 
and  tie  you  down  to  the  bed."  Pete  meant  it. 
As  if,  again,  for  illustration,  he  picked  Bannon 
up  in  his  arms.  The  boss  was  ready  for  the 
move  this  time,  and  he  resisted  with  all  his 
strength,  but  he  would  have  had  as  much 
chance  against  the  hug  of  a  grizzly  bear;  he 
was  crumpled  up.  Pete  started  off  with  him 
across  the  flat. 

"  All  right,"  said  Bannon.    "  I'll  go." 

At  seven  o'clock  next  morning  Pete  began 
expecting  his  return.  At  eight  he  began  in- 
quiring of  various  foremen  if  they  had  seen 


Calumet  "A"*  315 

anything  of  Charlie  Bannon.  By  nine  he  was 
avowedly  worried  lest  something  had  gone 
wrong  with  him,  and  a  little  after  ten  Max  set 
out  for  the  boarding  house. 

Encountering  the  landlady  in  the  hall,  he 
made  the  mistake  of  asking  her  if  she  had  seen 
anything  of  Mr.  Bannon  that  morning.  She 
had  some  elementary  notions  of  strategy,  de- 
rived, doubtless,  from  experience,  and  before 
beginning  her  reply,  she  blocked  the  narrow 
stairway  with  her  broad  person.  Then,  begin- 
ning with  a  discussion  of  Mr.  Bannon's  excel- 
lent moral  character  and  his  most  imprudent 
habits,  and  illustrating  by  anecdotes  of  various 
other  boarders  she  had  had  at  one  time  and  an- 
other, she  led  up  to  the  statement  that  she  had 
seen  nothing  of  him  since  the  night  before,  and 
that  she  had  twice  knocked  at  his  door  without 
getting  any  reply. 

Max,  who  had  laughed  a  little  at  Pete's 
alarm,  was  now  pretty  well  frightened  himself, 
but  at  that  instant  they  heard  the  thud  of  bare 
feet  on  the  floor  just  above  them.  "  That's  him 
now,"  said  the  landlady,  thoughtlessly  turning 
sideways^  and  Max  bolted  past  her  and  up  the 
stairs 


3i6  Calumet  **K** 

He  knocked  at  the  door  and  called  out  to 
know  if  he  could  come  in.  The  growl  he  heard 
in  reply  meant  invitation  as  much  as  it  meant 
anything,  so  he  went  in.  Bannon,  already  in 
his  shirt  and  trousers,  stood  with  his  back  to 
the  door,  his  face  in  the  washbowl.  As  he 
scoured  he  sputtered.  Max  could  make  little 
out  of  it,  for  Bannon' s  face  was  under  water 
half  the  time,  but  he  caught  such  phrases  as 
"  Pete's  darned  foolishness,"  "  College  boy 
trick,"  '*  Lie  abed  all  the  morning,"  and  "  Bet- 
ter get  an  alarm  clock  "  —  which  thing  and 
the  need  for  it  Bannon  greatly  despised  —  and 
he  reached  the  conclusion  that  the  matter  was 
nothing  more  serious  than  that  Bannon  had 
overslept. 

But  the  boss  took  it  seriously  enough.  In- 
deed, he  seemed  deeply  humiliated,  and  he 
marched  back  to  the  elevator  beside  Max  with- 
out saying  a  word  until  just  as  they  were  cross- 
ing the  Belt  Line  tracks,  when  the  explanation 
of  the  phenomenon  came  to  him. 

"  I  know  where  I  get  it  from,"  he  exclaimed, 
as  if  in  some  measure  relieved  by  the  discovery. 
"  I  must  take  after  my  uncle.  He  was  the 
greatest  fellow  to  sleep  you  ever  saw." 


Calumet  **K**  317 

So  far  as  pace  was  concerned  that  day  was 
like  the  others;  while  the  men  were  human  it 
could  be  no  faster;  with  Bannon  on  the  job  it 
could  not  flag;  but  there  was  this  difference, 
that  to-day  the  stupidest  sweepers  knew  that 
they  had  almost  reached  the  end,  and  there  was 
a  rally  like  that  which  a  runner  makes  at  the 
beginning  of  the  last  hundred  yards. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  they  had  a  broad  hint 
of  how  near  the  end  was.  The  sweepers 
dropped  their  brooms  and  began  carrying  fire 
buckets  full  of  water.  They  placed  one  or  more 
near  every  bearing  all  over  the  elevator.  The 
men  who  were  quickest  to  understand  ex- 
plained to  the  slower  ones  what  the  precau- 
tion meant,  and  every  man  had  his  eye  on  the 
nearest  pulley  to  see  when  it  would  begin  to 
turn. 

But  Bannon  was  not  going  to  begin  till  he 
was  ready.  He  had  inspected  the  whole  job 
four  times  since  noon,  but  just  after  six  he  went 
all  over  it  again,  more  carefully  than  before. 
At  the  end  he  stepped  out  of  the  door  at  the 
bottom  of  the  stairway  bin,  and  pulled  it  shut 
after  him.  It  was  not  yet  painted,  and  its 
blank  surface  suggested  something.    He  drew 


3i8  Calumet  "AT" 

out  his  blue  pencil  and  wrote  on  the  upper 
panel :  — 

O.K. 

C.  H.  Bannon. 

Then  he  walked  over  to  the  power  house.  It 
was  a  one-story  brick  building,  with  whose  con- 
struction Bannon  had  had  no  concern,  as  Page 
&  Company  had  placed  the  contract  for  it  else- 
where. Every  night  for  the  past  week  lights 
had  been  streaming  from  its  windows,  and  day 
and  night  men  had  waited,  ready  at  any  time 
for  the  word  to  go  ahead.  A  dozen  of  them 
were  lounging  about  the  brick-paved  space  in 
front  of  the  battery  of  boilers  when  Bannon 
opened  the  door,  and  they  sprang  to  their  feet 
as  they  read  his  errand  in  his  face. 

"  Steam  up,"  he  said.  "  We'll  be  ready  as 
soon  as  you  are." 

There  was  the  accumulated  tension  of  a  week 
of  inactivity  behind  these  men,  and  the  effect 
of  Bannon's  words  was  galvanic.  Already  low 
fires  were  burning  under  the  boilers,  and  now 
the  coal  was  piled  on,  the  draughts  roared,  the 
smoke,  thick  enough  to  cut,  came  billowing  out 
of  the  tall  chimney.     Every  man  in  the  room, 


Calumet  "K"  319 

even  the  wretchedest  of  the  dripping  stokers, 
had  his  eyes  on  the  steam  gauges,  but  for  all 
that  the  water  boiled,  and  the  indicator  needles 
crept  slowly  round  the  dials,  and  at  last  the  en- 
gineer walked  over  and  pulled  the  whistle  cord. 

Hitherto  they  had  marked  the  divisions  of 
time  on  the  job  by  the  shrill  note  of  the  little 
whistle  on  the  hoisting  engine  boiler,  and  there 
was  not  a  man  but  started  at  the  screaming 
crescendo  of  the  big  siren  on  top  of  the  power 
house.  Men  in  the  streets,  in  the  straggling 
boarding  houses  over  across  the  flats,  on  the 
wharves  along  the  river,  men  who  had  been 
forbidden  to  come  to  the  elevator  till  they  were 
needed  lest  they  should  be  in  the  way,  had  been 
waiting  days  for  that  signal,  and  they  came 
streaming  into  the  elevator  almost  before  the 
blast  had  died  away. 

Page's  superintendent  was  standing  beside 
Bannon  and  Pete  by  the  foot  of  the  main  drive. 
"  Well,"  he  said,  "  we're  ready.    Are  you?  " 

Bannon  nodded  and  turned  to  a  laborer  who 
stood  near.  **  Go  tell  the  engineer  to  go  ahead." 
The  man,  proud  as  though  he  had  just  been 
promoted,  went  out  on  the  run. 

"  Now,"  said  Bannon,  "  here's  where  we  go 


320  Calumet  "^" 

slow.  All  the  machinery  in  the  house  has  got 
to  be  thrown  in,  one  thing  at  a  time,  line  shafts 
first  and  then  elevators  and  the  rest  of  it.  Pete, 
you  see  it  done  up  top.  I'll  look  out  for  it 
down  here.  See  that  there's  a  man  to  look  at 
each  bearing  at  least  once  in  three  minutes,  and 
let  me  know  if  it  gets  warm." 

It  took  a  long  time  to  do  it,  but  it  had  to  be 
done,  for  Bannon  was  inflexible,  but  at  last 
everything  in  elevator,  annex,  and  spouting 
house  that  could  turn  was  turning,  and  it  was 
reported  to  Bannon.     "  Now,"  he  said,  "  she's 

got  to  run,  light  for  fifteen  minutes.    No " 

he  went  on  in  answer  to  the  superintendent's 
protest ;  "  you're  lucky  I  didn't  say  two  hours. 
It's  the  biggest  chance  I  ever  took  as  it  is." 

So  while  they  stared  at  the  second  hands  of 
their  watches  the  minutes  crept  away  —  Pete 
wound  his  watch  up  tight  in  the  vain  hope  of 
making  it  go  a  little  faster  —  and  at  last  Ban- 
non turned  with  a  nod  to  the  superintendent. 

"All  right,"  he  said.  "You're  the  boss 
now." 

And  then  in  a  moment  the  straining  hawsers 
were  hauling  cars  up  into  the  house.  The 
seals    were   broken,    the    doors    rolled    back, 


Calumet  *'K**  321 

and  the  wheat  came  pouring  out.  The  shovel- 
lers clambered  into  the  cars  and  the  steam 
power  shovels  helped  the  torrent  along.  It  fell 
through  the  gratings,  into  steel  tanks,  and  then 
the  tireless  metal  cups  carried  it  up,  up,  up, 
'way  to  the  top  of  the  building.  And  then  it 
came  tumbling  down  again ;  down  into  garners, 
and  down  again  into  the  great  weighing  hop- 
pers, and  recognized  and  registered  and  mar- 
ketable at  last,  part  of  the  load  that  was  to  bury 
the  Clique  that  had  braved  it  out  of  sight  of  all 
but  their  creditors,  it  went  streaming  down  the 
spouts  into  the  bins. 

The  first  of  the  barges  in  the  river  was  moved 
down  beside  the  spouting  house,  her  main  hatch 
just  opposite  the  tower.  And  now  Pete,  in 
charge  there,  gave  the  word,  and  the  marine 
leg,  gravely,  deliberately  descended.  There  is 
a  magnificent  audacity  about  that  sort  of  per- 
formance. The  leg  was  ninety  feet  long,  steel- 
booted,  framed  of  great  timbers,  heavy  enough 
to  have  wrecked  the  barge  like  a  birch  bark 
canoe  if  it  had  got  away.  It  went  down  bodily 
into  the  hold  and  the  steel  boot  was  buried  in 
wheat.  Then  Pete  threw  another  lever,  and  in 
a  moment  another  endless  series  of  cups  was 

Y 


322  Calumet  "iT" 

carrying  the  wheat  aloft.  It  went  over  the 
cross-head  and  down  a  spout,  then  stretched 
out  in  a  golden  ribbon  along  the  glistening 
white  belt  that  ran  the  length  of  the  gallery. 
Then,  like  the  wheat  from  the  cars,  it  was 
caught  up  again  in  the  cups,  and  shot  down 
through  spouts,  and  carried  along  on  belts  to 
the  remotest  bins  in  the  annex. 

For  the  first  few  hours  of  it  the  men's  nerves 
were  hair  springs,  but  as  time  went  on  and  the 
stream  kept  pouring  in  without  pause,  the  ten- 
sion relaxed  though  the  watch  never  slackened. 
Men  patted  the  bearings  affectionately,  and 
still  the  same  report  came  to  Bannon,  "  All 
cool." 

Late  that  night,  as  the  superintendent  was 
figuring  his  weighing  reports,  he  said  to  Ban- 
non, "  At  this  rate,  we'll  have  several  hours  to 
spare." 

"  We  haven't  had  our  accident  yet,"  said 
Bannon,  shortly. 

It  happened  within  an  hour,  at  the  marine 
leg,  but  it  was  not  serious.  They  heard  a  splin- 
tering sound,  down  in  the  dark,  somewhere, 
and  Pete,  shouting  to  them  to  throw  out  the 
clutch,  climbed  out  and  down  on  the  sleet-clad 


Calumet  "iT"  323 

girders  that  framed  the  leg.  An  agile  monkey 
might  have  been  glad  to  return  alive  from  such 
a  climb,  but  Pete  came  back  presently  with  a 
curious  specimen  of  marine  hardware  that  had 
in  some  way  got  into  the  wheat,  and  thence 
into  the  boot  and  one  of  the  cups.  Part  way  up 
it  had  got  jammed  and  had  ripped  up  the 
sheathing  of  the  leg.  They  started  the  leg 
again,  but  soon  learned  that  it  was  leaking 
badly. 

"  You'll  have  to  haul  up  for  repairs,  I  guess," 
the  captain  called  up  to  them. 

"  Haven* t  time,"  said  Pete,  under  his  breath, 
and  with  a  hammer  and  nails,  and  a  big  piece 
of  sacking,  he  went  down  the  leg  again,  play- 
ing his  neck  against  a  half-hour's  delay  as  se- 
renely as  most  men  would  walk  downstairs  to 
dinner.  "  Start  her  up,  boys,"  he  called,  when 
the  job  was  done,  and,  with  the  leg  jolting 
under  his  hands  as  he  climbed,  he  came  back 
into  the  tower. 

That  was  their  only  misfortune,  and  all  it 
cost  them  was  a  matter  of  minutes,  so  by  noon 
of  the  thirtieth,  an  hour  or  two  after  MacBride 
and  young  Page  arrived  from  Minneapolis,  it 
became  clear  that  they  would  be  through  in 
time. 


324  Calumet  '*K** 

At  eight  o^clock  next  morning,  as  Bannon 
and  MacBride  were  standing  in  the  superin- 
tendent's office,  he  came  in  and  held  out  his 
hand.  "  She's  full,  Mr.  Bannon.  I  congratu- 
late you." 

"Full,  eh?'^  said  MacBride.  Then  he 
dropped  his  hand  on  Bannon' s  shoulder. 
"  Well,"  he  said,  "  do  yoii  want  to  go  to  sleep, 
or  will  you  come  and  talk  business  with  me  for 
a  little  while?" 

"  Sleep !  "  Bannon  echoed.  "  I've  been  over- 
sleeping lately." 


CHAPTER  XVII 

The  elevator  was  the  place  for  the  dinner, 
if  only  the  mild  weather  that  had  followed  the 
Christmas  storm  should  continue  —  on  that 
Bannon,  Pete,  and  Max  were  agreed.  New 
Year's  Day  would  be  a  holiday,  and  there  was 
room  on  the  distributing  floor  for  every  man 
who  had  worked  an  hour  on  the  job  since  the 
first  spile  had  been  driven  home  in  the  Calumet 
clay.  To  be  sure  most  of  the  laborers  had  been 
laid  off  before  the  installing  of  the  machinery, 
but  Bannon  knew  that  they  would  all  be  on 
hand,  and  he  meant  to  have  seats  for  them. 
But  on  the  night  of  the  thirtieth  the  wind 
swung  around  to  the  northeast,  and  it  came 
whistling  through  the  cracks  in  the  cupola  walls 
with  a  sting  in  it  that  set  the  weighers  to  shiv- 
ering. And  as  the  insurance  companies  would 
have  inquired  curiously  into  any  arrangement 
325 


326  Calumet  ''K'* 

for  heating  that  gloomy  space  on  the  tops  of 
the  bins,  the  plan  had  to  be  given  up. 

As  soon  as  the  last  of  the  grain  was  in,  on 
the  thirty-first,  Max  took  a  north-bound  car 
and  scoured  South  Chicago  for  a  hall  that  was 
big  enough.  Before  the  afternoon  was  gone 
he  had  found  it,  and  had  arranged  with  a  res- 
taurant keeper  to  supply  the  dinner.  Early  the 
next  morning  the  three  set  to  work,  making 
long  tables  and  benches  by  resting  planks  on 
boxes,  and  covering  the  tables  with  pink  and 
blue  and  white  scalloped  shelf-paper. 

It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock  when  Max,  after 
draping  a  twenty-four-foot  flag  in  a  dozen  dif- 
ferent ways,  let  it  slide  down  the  ladder  to  the 
floor  and  sat  dov/n  on  the  upper  round,  looking 
out  over  the  gridiron  of  tables  with  a  disgusted 
expression.  Peterson,  aided  by  a  man  from  the 
restaurant,  was  bringing  in  load  after  load  of 
thick  white  plates,  stacking  them  waist  high 
near  the  door.  Max  was  on  the  point  of  calling 
to  him,  but  he  recollected  that  Pete's  eye, 
though  quick  with  timbers,  would  not  help 
much  in  questions  of  art.  Just  then  Bannon 
came  through  the  doorway  with  another  flag 
rolled  under  his  arm. 


Calumet  "iT"  327 

"  They're  here  already,  a  couple  of  dozen  of 
'em,"  he  said,  as  he  dropped  the  flag  at  the  foot 
of  the  ladder.  "  I've  left  James  on  the  stairs  to 
keep  'em  out  until  we're  ready.  Better  have  an 
eye  on  the  fire  escape,  too  —  they're  feeling 
pretty  lively." 

"  Say,"  Max  said  abruptly,  "  I  can't  make 
this  thing  look  anyhow.  I  guess  it's  up  to 
you." 

Bannon  stepped  back  and  looked  up  at  the 
wall. 

"  Why  don't  you  just  hang  them  from  the 
ceiling  and  then  catch  them  up  from  pretty  near 
the  bottom  —  so  they'll  drape  down  on  both 
sides  of  the  windows  ?  " 

"  I  know,"  said  Max,  "  but  there's  ways  of 
making  'em  look  just  right  —  if  Hilda  was 

here,  she'd  know "  He  paused  and  looked 

down  at  the  red,  white,  and  blue  heap  on  the 
floor. 

During  the  last  week  they  had  not  spoken  of 
Hilda,  and  Bannon  did  not  know  whether  she 
had  told  Max.  He  glanced  at  him,  but  got  no 
sign,  for  Max  was  gazing  moodily  down- 
ward. 

"Do  you  think,"  Bannon  said,  "do  you 
think  she'd  care  to  come  around?  " 


328  Calumet  *'K'* 

He  tried  to  speak  easily,  as  he  might  have 
spoken  of  her  at  any  time  before  Christmas 
Day,  but  he  could  not  check  a  second  glance  at 
Max.  At  that  moment  Max  looked  up,  and  as 
their  eyes  met,  with  an  awkward  pause,  Bannon 
knew  that  he  understood;  and  for  a  moment 
the  impatience  that  he  had  been  fighting  for  a 
week  threatened  to  get  away  with  him.  He  had 
seen  nothing  of  Hilda,  except  for  the  daily 
"  Good  morning,"  and  a  word  now  and  then. 
The  office  had  been  besieged  by  reporters  wait- 
ing for  a  chance  at  him;  under-foremen  had 
been  rushing  in  and  out;  Page's  representatives 
and  the  railroad  and  steamboat  men  had  made 
it  their  headquarters.  It  may  be  that  he  would 
not  have  spoken  in  any  case,  for  he  had  said  all 
that  he  could  say,  and  he  knew  that  she  would 
give  him  an  answer  when  she  could. 

Max's  eyes  had  dropped  again. 

"  You  mean  for  her  to  help  fix  things  up  ?  " 
he  asked. 

Bannon  nodded;  and  then,  as  Max  did  not 
look  up,  he  said,  "  Yes." 

"  Why  —  why,  yes,  I  guess  she'd  just  as 
soon."  He  hesitated,  then  began  coming  down 
the  ladder,  adding,  "  I'll  go  for  her." 


Calumet  **K'*  329 

Bannon  looked  over  his  shoulder  —  Pete 
was  clattering  about  among  the  dishes. 

"  Max,"  he  said,  "  hold  on  a  minute." 

Max  turned  and  came  slowly  back. 

Bannon  had  seated  himself  on  the  end  of  a 
table,  and  now  he  waited,  looking  down  at  the 
two  rows  of  plates,  and  slowly  turning  a  caster 
that  stood  at  his  elbow.  What  he  finally  said 
was  not  what  Max  was  awaiting. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  now,  Max  — 
when  you're  through  on  this  job?  " 

"Why  — I  don't  know " 

"  Have  you  got  anything  ahead  ?  '* 

"  Nothing  sure.  I  was  working  for  a  firm 
of  contractors  up  on  the  North  Side,  and  I've 
been  thinking  maybe  they'd  take  me  back." 

"  You've  had  some  experience  in  building 
before  now,  haven't  you?"  Bannon  was 
speaking  deliberately,  as  if  he  were  saying 
what  he  had  thought  out  before. 

"  Yes,  a  good  deal.  It's  what  I've  mostly 
done  since  I  quit  the  lumber  business." 

"  When  Mr.  MacBride  was  here,"  said  Ban- 
non, "  he  told  me  that  we've  got  a  contract  for 
a  new  house  at  Indianapolis.  It's  going  to  be 
concrete,  from  the  spiles  up  —  there  ain't  any- 


330  Calumet  ''K'* 

thing  like  it  in  the  country.  I'm  going  down 
next  week  to  take  charge  of  the  job,  and  if 
you'd  like  to  go  along  as  my  assistant,  I'll  take 
you." 

Max  did  not  know  what  to  say.  At  first  he 
grinned  and  blushed,  thinking  only  that  Ban- 
non  had  been  pleased  with  his  work;  then  he 
grew  serious. 

"  Well,"  said  Bannon,  "  what  do  you  say?  " 

Max  still  hesitated.    At  last  he  replied :  — 

"  Can  I  have  till  to-morrow  to  think  about 
it  ?  I  —  you  see,  Hilda  and  I,  we  most  always 
talk  things  over,  and  I  don't  exactly  like  to  do 
anything  without " 

"  Sure,"  said  Bannon ;  "  think  it  over  if  you 
like.  There's  no  hurry  up  to  the  end  of  the 
week."  He  paused  as  if  he  meant  to  go  on, 
but  changed  his  mind  and  stood  up.  Max,  too, 
was  waiting,  as  if  there  were  more  to  be  said. 

"  You  two  must  think  we've  got  all  day  to 
fix  things."  It  was  Pete  calling  from  the 
other  end  of  the  room.  "  There  ain't  no  loaf- 
ing allowed  here." 

Bannon  smiled,  and  Max  turned  away.  But 
after  he  had  got  a  third  of  the  way  down  the 
aisle,  he  came  back. 


Calumet  ''K"  331 

"  Say,  Mr.  Bannon/'  he  said,  "  I  want  to  tell 
you  that  I  —  Hilda,  she  said  —  she's  told  me 
something      about      things  —  and      I      want 

to "     It  had  been  a  lame  conversation ; 

now  it  broke  down,  and  they  stood  through  a 
long  silence  without  speaking.  Finally  Max 
pulled  himself  together,  and  said  in  a  low,  ner- 
vous voice :  "  Say,  it's  all  right.  I  guess  you 
know  what  I'm  thinking  about.  And  I  ain't 
got  a  word  to  say."    Then  he  hurried  out. 

When  Max  and  Hilda  came  in,  the  restau- 
rant man  was  setting  up  the  paper  napkin  tents 
on  the  raised  table  at  the  end  of  the  hall,  and 
Pete  stood  by  the  door,  looking  upon  his  work 
with  satisfaction.  He  did  not  see  them  until 
they  were  fairly  in  the  room. 

"Hello,"  he  said;  "  I  didn't  know  you  was 
coming,  Miss  Vogel."  He  swept  his  arm 
around.  "  Ain't  it  fine  ?  Make  you  hungry  to 
look  at  all  them  plates  ?  " 

Hilda  followed  his  gesture  with  a  smile. 
Her  jacket  was  still  buttoned  tightly,  and  her 
eyes  were  bright  and  her  cheeks  red  from  the 
brisk  outer  air.  Bannon  and  James  were  com- 
ing toward  them,  and  she  greeted  them  with  a 
nod. 


332  Calumet  "i^" 

"  There's  going  to  be  plenty  of  room,"  she 
said. 

"  Thaf  s  right,"  Pete  replied.  "  There  won't 
be  no  elbows  getting  in  the  way  at  this  dinner. 
Come  up  where  you  can  see  better."  He  led 
the  way  to  the  platform,  and  they  all  followed. 

"  This  is  the  speakers'  table,"  Pete  went  on, 
"  where  the  boss  and  all  will  be  "  —  he  winked 
toward  Bannon  —  "  and  the  guest  of  honor. 
You  show  her  how  we  sit,  Max ;  you  fixed  that 
part  of  it." 

Max  walked  around  the  table,  pointing  out 
his  own,  Pete's,  James',  and  Bannon' s  seats, 
and  those  of  the  committee.  The  middle  seat, 
next  to  Bannon' s  he  passed  over. 

"  Hold  on,"  said  Pete,  "  you  forgot  some- 
thing." 

Max  grinned  and  drew  back  the  middle 
chair. 

"  This  is  for  the  guest  of  honor,"  he  said, 
and  looked  at  Hilda.  Pete  was  looking  at  her, 
too,  and  James  —  all  but  Bannon. 

The  color,  that  had  been  leaving  her  face, 
began  to  come  back. 

"  Do  you  mean  me  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  I  guess  that's  pretty  near,"  said  Pete. 


Calumet  "^"  333 

She  shook  her  head.  "  Oh,  no  —  thank  you 
very  much  —  I  can't  stay/' 

Pete  and  Max  looked  at  each  other. 

"  The  boys'll  be  sorry,"  said  Pete.  "  It's 
kind  of  got  out  that  maybe  you'd  be  here,  and 
—  I  don't  beHeve  they'd  let  you  off." 

Hilda  was  smiling,  but  her  face  was  flushed. 
She  shook  her  head.  "Oh,  no,"  she  replied; 
"  I  only  came  to  help." 

Pete  turned  on  Max,  with  a  clumsy  laugh 
that  did  not  cover  his  disappointment. 

"  How  about  this,  Max  ?  You  ain't  been 
tending  to  business.  Ain't  that  so,  James? 
Wasn't  he  going  to  see  that  she  come  and  sat 
up  with  us  where  the  boys  could  see  her  ?  "  He 
turned  to  Hilda.  "  You  see,  most  of  the  boys 
know  you've  had  a  good  deal  to  do  with  things 
on  the  job,  and  they've  kind  of  took  a  shine  to 

you "     Pete  suddenly  awoke  to  the  fact 

that  he  had  never  talked  so  boldly  to  a  girl  be- 
fore. He  hesitated,  looked  around  at  Max  and 
James  for  support  and  at  Bannon,  and  then, 
finding  no  help,  he  grinned,  and  the  warm  color 
surged  over  his  face.  The  only  one  who  saw  it 
all  was  Hilda,  and  in  spite  of  her  embarrass- 
ment the  sight  of  big,  strong,  bashful  Pete  was 


334  Calumet  "AT" 

too  much  for  her.  A  twinkle  came  into  her 
eyes,  and  a  faint  smile  hovered  about  her 
mouth.  Pete  saw  it,  misunderstood  it,  and, 
feeling  relieved,  went  on,  not  knowing  that  by 
bringing  that  twinkle  to  Hilda's  eyes,  he  had 
saved  the  situation. 

"  It's  only  that  they've  talked  about  it  some, 
and  yesterday  a  couple  of  'em  spoke  to  me,  and 
I  said  I'd  ask  Max,  and " 

"  Thank  you,  Mr.  Peterson,"  Hilda  replied. 
"  Max  should  have  told  me."  She  turned 
toward  Max,  her  face  sober  now  except  for  the 
eyes,  which  would  not  come  under  control. 
Max  had  been  dividing  his  glances  between  her 
and  Bannon,  feeling  the  situation  heavily,  and 
wondering  if  he  ought  not  to  come  to  her  re- 
lief, but  unable  to  dig  up  the  right  word.  Pete 
spoke  up  again :  — 

"  Say,  honest  now,  ain't  you  coming  ?  " 

"  I  can't  really.  I'm  sorry.  I  know  you'll 
have  a  good  time." 

Bannon  had  been  standing  aside,  unwilling 
to  speak  for  fear  of  making  it  harder  for  her. 
But  now  she  turned  to  him  and  said,  with  a 
lightness  that  puzzled  him :  — 

"  Aren't  we  going  to  do  some  decorating, 


Calumet  *'K"  335 

Mr.  Bannon  ?  I'm  afraid  it  will  be  dinner  time 
before  Mr.  Peterson  knows  it." 

Pete  flushed  again  at  this,  but  she  gave  him 
a  quick  smile. 

"  Yes,"  said  Bannon,  "  there's  only  a  little 
over  half  an  hour."  He  paused,  and  looked 
about  the  group,  holding  his  watch  in  his  hand 
and  fingering  the  stem.  The  lines  about  his 
mouth  were  settling.  Hilda  glanced  again  at 
him,  and  from  the  determined  look  in  his  eyes, 
she  knew  that  his  week  of  waiting  was  over; 
that  he  meant  to  speak  to  her  before  she  left  the 
hall.  It  was  all  in  the  moment's  silence  that 
followed  his  remark ;  then  he  went  on,  as  easily 
as  if  he  were  talking  to  a  gang  on  the  marine 
tower  —  but  the  time  was  long  enough  for 
Hilda  to  feel  her  brief  courage  slipping  away. 
She  could  not  look  at  him  now. 

"  Take  a  look  at  that  door,  James,"  he  was 
saying.  "  I  guess  you'll  have  to  tend  to  busi- 
ness if  you  want  any  dinner." 

They  all  turned  and  saw  the  grinning  heads 
of  some  of  the  carpenters  peering  into  the 
room.  There  was  the  shuffling  of  many  feet 
behind  them  on  the  stairs,  and  the  sound  of  cat 
calls  and  whistling.     A  shove  was  passed  on 


336  Calumet  "iT" 

from  somewhere  back  in  the  hallway,  and  one 
of  the  carpenters  came  sprawling  through  the 
door.     The  others  yelled  good-naturedly. 

"  I'll  fix  'em,"  said  James,  with  a  laugh, 
starting  toward  them. 

**  Give  him  a  lift,  Pete,"  said  Bannon. 
"  He'll  need  it.  You  two'd  better  keep  the 
stairs  clear  for  a  while,  or  they'll  stampede 
us." 

So  Pete  followed,  and  for  a  few  moments 
the  uproar  from  the  stairs  drowned  all  attempts 
at  conversation.  Only  Max  was  left  with  them 
now.  He  stood  back  by  the  wall,  still  looking 
helplessly  from  one  to  the  other.  The  restau- 
rant men  were  bustling  about  the  floor;  and 
Hilda  was  glad  they  were  there,  for  she  knew 
that  Bannon  meant  to  send  Max  away,  too. 
She  was  too  nervous  to  stand  still;  and  she 
walked  around  the  table,  resetting  the  knives 
and  forks  and  spoons.  The  paper  napkins  on 
this  table  were  the  only  ones  in  the  room.  She 
wondered  at  this,  and  when  the  noise  of  the 
men  had  died  away  into  a  few  jeering  cries 
from  the  street,  and  Max  had  gone  to  get  the 
flags  (for  she  had  said  that  they  should  be 
hung  at  this  end  of  the  room),  and  the  waiters 


Calumet  "K''  337 

were  bustling  about,  it  gave  her  a  chance  to 
break  the  silence. 

"  Aren't  the  other  "  —  she  had  to  stop  to 
clear  her  throat  —  "  aren't  the  other  men  going 
to  have  napkins  ?  " 

"  They  wouldn't  know  what  they  were  for." 

His  easy  tone  gave  her  a  momentary  sense  of 
relief. 

"  They'd  tie  them  on  their  hats,  or  make  balls 
to  throw  around."  He  paused,  but  added :  "  It 
wouldn't  look  bad,  though,  would  it?  —  to 
stand  them  up  this  way  on  all  the  tables." 

She  made  no  reply. 

"  What  do  you  say  ?  "  He  was  looking  at 
her.    "Shall  we  do  it?" 

She  nodded,  and  then  dropped  her  eyes,  an- 
gry with  herself  that  she  could  not  overcome 
her  nervousness.  There  was  another  silence, 
and  she  broke  it. 

"  It  would  look  a  good  deal  better,"  she  said, 
"  if  you  have  time  to  do  it.  Max  and  I  will 
put  up  the  flags." 

She  had  meant  to  say  somethmg  that  would 
give  her  a  better  control  of  the  situation,  but  it 
sounded  very  flat  and  disagreeable  —  and  she 
had  not  meant  it  to  sound  disagreeable.     In- 


338  Calumet  "isT" 

deed,  as  soon  as  the  words  were  out,  and  she 
felt  his  eyes  on  her,  and  she  knew  that  she  was 
blushing,  she  was  not  sure  that  she  had  meant 
it  at  all.  Perhaps  that  was  why,  when  Bannon 
asked,  in  a  low  voice,  "  Would  you  rather  Max 
would  help  you?"  she  turned  away  and  an- 
swered in  a  cool  tone  that  did  not  come  from 
any  one  of  her  rushing,  struggling  thoughts, 
"  If  you  don't  mind." 

She  did  not  see  the  change  that  came  over  his 
face,  the  weary  look  that  meant  that  the  strain 
of  a  week  had  suddenly  broken,  but  she  did  not 
need  to  see  it,  for  she  knew  it  was  there.  She 
heard  him  step  down  from  the  platform,  and 
then  she  watched  him  as  he  walked  down  the 
aisle  to  meet  Max,  who  was  bringing  up  the 
flags.  She  wondered  impatiently  why  Bannon 
did  not  call  to  him.  Then  he  raised  his  head, 
but  before  a  word  had  left  his  lips  she  was 
speaking,  in  a  clear  tone  that  Max  could  plainly 
hear.  She  was  surprised  at  herself.  She  had 
not  meant  to  say  a  word,  but  out  it  came;  and 
she  was  conscious  of  a  tightening  of  her  nerves 
and  a  defiant  gladness  that  at  last  her  real 
thoughts  had  found  an  outlet. 

"  Max,"  she  said,  "  won't  you  go  out  and 


Calumet  "K"  339 

get  enough  napkins  to  put  at  all  the  places? 
You'll  have  to  hurry." 

Bannon  was  slow  in  turning;  when  he  did 
there  was  a  peculiar  expression  on  his  face. 

"  Hold  on,  there,"  called  a  waiter.    "  There 
ain't  time  to  fold  them." 

"  Yes,  there  is,"  said  Bannon,  shortly.  "  The 
boys  can  wait." 

"  But  dinner's  most  ready  now." 
"  Then  I  guess  dinner's  got  to  wait,  too." 
The  waiter  looked  disgusted,  and  Max  hur- 
ried out.  Bannon  gathered  up  the  flags  and 
came  to  the  platform.  Hilda  could  not  face 
him.  For  an  instant  she  had  a  wild  impulse  to 
follow  Max.  She  finally  turned  her  back  on 
Bannon  and  leaned  her  elbows  on  a  chair, 
looking  over  the  wall  for  a  good  place  to  hang 
the  flags.  She  was  going  to  begin  talking 
about  it  as  soon  as  he  should  reach  the  plat- 
form. The  words  were  all  ready,  but  now  he 
was  opposite  her,  looking  across  the  table  with 
the  red  and  white  bundle  in  his  arms,  and  she 
had  not  said  it.  Her  eyes  were  fixed  on  a  nap- 
kin, studying  out  the  curious  Japanese  design. 
She  could  hear  his  breathing  and  her  own. 
She  let  her  eyes  rise  as  high  as  the  flags,  then 


340  Calumet  "iT" 

slowly,  higher  and  higher,  until  they  met  his, 
fluttered,  and  dropped.  But  the  glance  was 
enough.  She  could  not  have  resisted  the  look 
in  his  eyes. 

"Did  you  mean  it?"  he  asked,  almost 
breathlessly.  "  Did  you  mean  the  whole 
thing?" 

She  could  not  reply.  She  glanced  around  to 
see  if  the  waiters  could  hear. 

"  Can't  you  tell  me?  "  he  was  saying.  "  It's 
been  a  week." 

She  gazed  at  the  napkin  until  it  grew  misty 
and  indistinct.    Then  she  slowly  nodded. 

A  waiter  was  almost  within  hearing.  Ban- 
non  stood  looking  at  her,  heedless  of  everything 
but  that  she  was  there  before  him,  that  her  eyes 
were  trying  to  peep  up  at  him  through  the  locks 
of  red  gold  hair  that  had  strayed  over  her  fore- 
head. 

"  Please  "  —  she  whispered  —  "  please  put 
them  up." 

And  so  they  set  to  work.  He  got  the  ladder 
and  she  told  him  what  to  do.  Her  directions 
were  not  always  clear,  but  that  mattered  little, 
for  he  could  not  have  followed  them.  Some- 
how the  flags  went  up,  and  if  the  effect  was 


Calumet  '"K*"  341 

little  better  than  Max's  attempt  had  been,  no 
one  spoke  of  it. 

Pete  and  Max  came  in  together  soon  with 
the  napkins,  and  a  little  time  slipped  by  before 
Bannon  could  ^draw  Max  aside  and  grip  his 
hand.  Then  they  went  at  the  napkins,  and  as 
they  sat  around  the  table,  Hilda  and  Bannon, 
Pete  and  the  waiters,  folding  them  with  rapid 
fingers,  Bannon  found  opportunity  to  talk  to 
her  in  a  low  voice,  during  the  times  when  Pete 
was  whistling,  or  was  chaffing  with  the  wait- 
ers. He  told  her,  a  few  words  at  a  time,  of  the 
new  work  Mr.  MacBride  had  assigned  to  him, 
and  in  his  enthusiasm  he  gave  her  a  little  idea 
of  what  it  would  mean  to  him,  this  opportunity 
to  build  an  elevator  the  like  of  which  had  never 
been  seen  in  the  country  before,  and  which 
would  be  watched  by  engineers  from  New  York 
to  San  Francisco.  He  told  her,  too,  something 
about  the  work,  how  it  had  been  discovered  that 
piles  could  be  made  of  concrete  and  driven  into 
the  ground  with  a  pile  driver,  and  that  neither 
beams  nor  girders  —  none  of  the  timbers,  in 
fact  —  were  needed  in  this  new  construction. 
He  was  nearly  through  with  it,  and  still  he  did 
not  notice  the  uncertain  expression  in  her  eyes. 


343  Calumet  ''K** 

It  was  not  until  she  asked  in  a  faltering  under- 
tone, "  When  are  you  going  to  begin  ?  "  that 
it  came  to  him.  And  then  he  looked  at  her  so 
long  that  Pete  began  to  notice,  and  she  had  to 
touch  his  foot  with  hers  under  the  table  to  get 
him  to  turn  away.  He  had  forgotten  all  about 
the  vacation  and  the  St.  Lawrence  trip. 

Hilda  saw,  in  her  side  glances,  the  gloomy 
expression  that  had  settled  upon  his  face;  and 
she  recovered  her  spirits  first. 

"It's  all  right,"  she  whispered;  "I  don't 
care." 

Max  came  up  then,  from  a  talk  with  James 
out  on  the  stairway,  and  for  a  few  moments 
there  was  no  chance  to  reply.  But  after 
Bannon  had  caught  Max's  signals  to  step 
out  of  hearing  of  the  others,  and  before  he 
had  risen,  there  was  a  moment  when  Pete's  at- 
tention was  drawn  by  one  of  the  waiters,  and  he 
said :  — 

"  Can  you  go  with  me  —  Monday  ?  " 

She  looked  frightened,  and  the  blood  rose  in 
her  cheeks  so  that  she  had  to  bend  low  over  her 
pile  of  napkins. 

"Will  you?'*  He  was  pushing  back  his 
chair. 


Calumet  **K**  343 

She  did  not  look  up,  but  her  head  nodded 
once  with  a  little  jerk. 

"  And  you'll  stay  for  the  dinner,  won't  you 

—  now?" 

She  nodded  once  more,  and  Bannon  went  to 
join  Max. 

Max  made  two  false  starts  before  he  could 
get  his  words  out  in  the  proper  order. 

"  Say/'  he  finally  said;  "  I  thought  maybe 
you  wouldn't  care  if  I  told  James.  He  thinks 
you're  all  right,  you  know.  And  he  says,  if 
you  don't  care,  he'd  like  to  say  a  little  some- 
thing about  it  when  he  makes  his  speech.  Not 
much,  you  know  —  nothing  you  wouldn't  like 

—  he  says  it  would  tickle  the  boys  right  down 
to  their  corns." 

Bannon  looked  around  toward  Hilda,  and 
slowly  shook  his  head. 

"  Max,"  he  replied,  "  if  anybody  says  a  word 
about  it  at  this  dinner  I'll  break  his  head." 

That  should  have  been  enough,  but  when 
James'  turn  came  to  speak,  after  nearly  two 
hours  of  eating  and  singing  and  laughing  and 
riotous  good  cheer,  he  began  in  a  way  that 
brought  Bannon's  eyes  quickly  upon  him. 

"  Boys,"  he  said,  "  we've  worked  hard  to- 


344  Calumet  '"K*" 

gether  on  this  job,  and  one  way  and  another 
we've  come  to  understand  what  sort  of  a  man 
our  boss  is.    Ain't  that  right  ?  " 

A  roar  went  up  from  hundreds  of  throats, 
and  Hilda,  sitting  next  to  Bannon,  blushed. 

'*  We've  thought  we  understood  him  pretty 
well,  but  I've  just  found  out  that  we  didn't 
know  so  much  as  we  thought  we  did.  He's 
been  a  pretty  square  friend  to  all  of  us,  and 
I'm  going  to  tell  you  something  that'll  give 
you  a  chance  to  show  you're  square  friends  of 
his,  too." 

He  paused,  and  then  was  about  to  go  on, 
leaning  forward  with  both  hands  on  the  table, 
and  looking  straight  down  on  the  long  rows  of 
bearded  faces,  when  he  heard  a  slight  noise  be- 
hind him.  A  sudden  laugh  broke  out,  and  be- 
fore he  could  turn  his  head,  a  strong  hand  fell 
on  each  shoulder  and  he  went  back  into  his 
chair  with  a  bump.  Then  he  looked  up,  and 
saw  Bannon  standing  over  him.  The  boss  was 
trying  to  speak,  but  he  had  to  wait  a  full  min- 
ute before  he  could  make  himself  heard.  He 
glanced  around  and  saw  the  look  of  appeal  in 
Hilda's  eyes. 

"  Look  here,  boys,"  he  said,  when  the  room 


Calumet  "K**  345 

had  grown  quiet ;  "  we  aren't  handing  out  any- 
soft  soap  at  this  dinner.  I  won't  let  this  man 
up  till  he  promises  to  quit  talking  about  me." 

There  was  another  burst  of  laughter,  and 
James  shouted  something  that  nobody  under- 
stood. Bannon  looked  dowr  at  him,  and  said 
quietly,  and  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye,  but  very 
firmly :  — 

"If  you  try  that  again,  I'll  throw  you  out  of 
the  window." 

James  protested,  and  was  allowed  to  get  up. 
Bannon  slipped  into  his  seat  by  Hilda. 

"  It's  all  right,"  he  said  in  a  low  tone. 
"  They  won't  know  it  now  until  we  get  out  of 
here."  His  hand  groped  for  hers  under  the 
table. 

James  was  irrepressible.  He  was  shouting 
quickly  now,  in  order  to  get  the  words  out  be- 
fore Bannon  could  reach  him  again. 

"  How  about  this,  boys  ?  Shall  we  stand 
it?" 

"  No !  "  was  the  reply  in  chorus. 

"  All  right,  then.  Three  cheers  for  Mr. 
Bannon.     Now  —  Hip,  hip " 

There  was  no  stopping  that  response. 


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